Never the Same
by Serpens Caput
Summary: She fell into his life. He saved hers...
1. Chapter 1

Eric Northman reclined carelessly in his seat, slightly elevated above the gyrating , gothed bodies of humans and non humans alike. His fingers ghosted over the keys of phone, an almost lover's caress as he sent out four texts in quick succession. He'd never admit to anyone, but, he wasn't actually texting anyone.

Well, himself, but that didn't really count.

He had texted Pam at first, but several things had conspired to end that practice. First, she was far less than adept at texting and he was too impatient to await her responses – not that he _really_ cared what her responses were – and as such would continue to send message after message. Which, naturally, resulted in incoherent texts that drove Pam and her anal-retentive, perfectionist qualities insane. She'd never tell him that, though. She was his childe, and as such owed him enough to ignore her steadily growing irritation with this human technology. But, he had caught onto it and her mono-syllable retorts had driven the final stake in that practice. (He chortled inside at that not-quite-funny vampire pun, but dammnit it was his brain. He could laugh if he wanted to.)

And…there was really no one else.

Longshadow was barely coherent, much less fully literate. Or…had been. And now Chow? About as interesting as dog food (he cackled again to himself).

So, here he was. Texting the phone he had carefully hidden in the bottom drawer of his locked desk, behind a hidden slat of metal, with frivolous messages so that he could make an appearance at his bar without actually having to watch his bar.

_Fill Chow's sleeping quarters with dog foo-_

**Fwump. **

Eric blinked in carefully controlled surprise as a writhing, bloody human girl dropped into his lap. While it was hardly an unfamiliar situation, he normally at least _saw_ the human clamber onto him.

"Grace," it whispered mournfully, her warm, tear-stricken brown eyes staring blankly past him before she dropped bonelessly against him.

He cocked his head as he took in her now still body.

Dead?

He could feel the hot thrum of her blood pulsing beneath the skin, so that clearly wasn't it. She must have passed out – or fainted. The wound and cuts littered upon her body bled freely, a blood that called to him more intensely than even Sookie Stackhouse's.

Sookie, his mind latched on. Here was the perfect opportunity to use Sookie's unique _talents_, once again. Perhaps, steer her away from Compton, while he was at it. He should have Pam-

"Master," Pam appeared behind him, less than a second later. She peered down at the human distastefully, "Would you like me to _dispose_," her voice dripped disdain and scarcely restrained bloodlust, "of this…thing?"

"No," he shook his head negligently, his perfect blonde locks flowing with the movement. "Call Compton. I'll be requiring Sookie's _aid_. Immediately."

"Of course," she nodded and disappeared into the shadows. He chuckled to himself, having seen the flash of dislike that crossed her face at the mention of Sookie. Pam highly disapproved of his interest in the human. He couldn't explain it himself. It was – the thrill of the chase? Her useful talents? Agitating Compton?

All of the above, most likely.

He carefully lifted the prone body and slipped into his office before the mortals could notice anything amiss. She whimpered as the movement jostled her, and the sharp, delightful tang of her blood drifted up to him again.

Stars above, she smelled invitingly delicious. He was reminded again that it had been more than a week since he had last fed – those "fangbangers," as they were so aptly named, had seemed entirely unappetizing to him lately as were his other normal sources of food.

She smelled different. Pure. Untouched. Strong. Special – like Sookie.

He laid her gently on the black couch nestled into the corner of the room and pulled the heavy, leather chair from behind his desk to a few feet in front of her.

Leaning back, he stared intently at woman. She couldn't be more than twenty – if even that – with thick, dark black hair that lay tangled and matted against her skull. The signs of a heavy beating and fight were evident from her bruised appearance and battered body.

There were splatters of blood – some hers, some not, some human and one distinctly vampire. If it weren't for the complete absence of that buzzing repulsion he got around vampire killers, he would have slain her in a moment. As it was, it did give him pause. The dead vampire's blood called faintly to him. It was…familiar. Like his maker's. But not.

More information for Sookie to untangle.

Pam sauntered into the room, her deep red pumps clicking against the floor. "Compton will bring her soon."

"Good."

"Who is she?" she asked, the slight twist to the last syllable denoting the faintest curiosity. More emotion than she normally showed - she must be very curious indeed, he mused.

"Don't know." He continued to gaze purposefully and unblinkingly at her. She had delicate features and bone structure. Like a china doll. Very fragile looking.

That pleased him. He wasn't sure why, but he was pleased. By that, and her casual (if now torn and ruined) black t-shirt and jean cut-offs. And…

Pam stiffened.

"Compton is here," she informed redundantly, knowing full well that Eric had sensed it as well.

"Bring them in."

**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: YAY! Thanks for all the reviews!! :D :D They've totally made my week! So, here's the next chappie....

"Sookie," her name rolled smoothly off his tongue and he stood up to greet her.

"Eric," she replied, her tone cool and disgruntled. He swallowed a smile at her attempt to mask her anger.

"Eric," Compton growled, his arm possessively wrapped around her waist.

"Why am I here?" Sookie said abruptly, her Southern burr pointed and grating.

How he hated that damned accent. He knew he shouldn't have pissed off the Royal Court. They were probably still laughing at their vindictive assignment, placing him sheriff in this Southern-accent-riddled horror.

"I need you to read her," he gestured at the unmoving body on the couch.

She turned and jumped. "Oh my god. Is she okay?" Hurrying over to her, she placed two fingers against her neck and breathed a soft sigh upon feeling a weak, but steady pulse beneath them.

"What did you do to her?" Sookie demanded irately.

"I'm sure you can figure that out yourself," he said calmly, figuring the anger would only fuel her reading.

She laid both hands softly on her face and took a deep breath, concentrating and opening herself.

"Well?" Eric asked, just inches away from her. Startled, she dropped her hands.

"I can't get a read on her."

"Why not?"

"Is she like us?" Bill asked.

Pam snorted and Eric silently agreed. Obviously she wasn't a vampire. Stupid idiot. Pale was hardly the defining characteristic of their species.

"No, she's unconscious," Sookie said patiently – which Eric marveled at. "So she's not thinking anything." Staring into Eric's eyes, she said seriously, "She needs medical attention. Immediately."

Eric raised an eyebrow, "I'll take that into consideration."

"If you're done, we'll be leaving then," Bill inserted roughly, his arms snaking around Sookie.

"Bill," she hissed. "We can't just leave her. She could die."

"That is not our problem," he retorted harshly.

"Bill!"

"Sookie, she's…"

Eric tuned out of their insipid argument, gaze drifting to meet Pam who rolled her eyes in response. His head snapped toward the unknown woman when he realized that her heart had stopped beating.

He waited a beat.

Silence.

He could hear Sookie's, pumping more and more vigorously as she fought more animatedly with Compton. But the girl.

Still nothing.

Damnit, he cursed silently and kneeled beside her. There was a second of contemplation, before his fangs descended and he tore the cold, white skin of his left wrist brutally.

He disregarded Pam's surprised noise of dissent and pressed the bleeding limb against her still lips, waiting impatiently for his blood to revive her. With his right hand, he gently massaged her throat, encouraging her to swallow.

The wound had all but healed when she grimaced. His sharp blue eyes caught the movement and he carefully cut his wrist again, laying it against her lips. He ignored the faint tingle of her growingly warm skin against his, and relaxed marginally as she began suckling.

She shifted automatically toward him, almost toppling off of the couch, and he carefully maneuvered her back into his lap, her weight settling comfortably against his chest. The ugly, mottled bruises that decorated her pale as snow skin slowly lightened and faded, restoring the flawless quality to its translucent beauty.

"Shh," he murmured, his voice unwittingly soothing, as he drew his wrist away from her. She mewled at its loss and he gave her a second to awaken from the haze of vampire blood.

Bright, cognizant brown eyes blinked up at him, before she let out a small shriek and scrambled away, her hands waving protectively.

"Relax," he commanded. Her fingers fluttered again, and she swore violently under her breath as he moved cautiously toward her. He caught her eye and pushed his glamour power toward her. "Relax. Everything is fine," he said calmly. "Relax," he repeated softly, pressing the tendrils more strongly upon her.

"Stop," she croaked. "I can't be glamoured so you can stop wasting your time."

"Sookie!" Bill cried, his hands carefully patting her still form. "What've you done?" he growled as he stalked toward her. Eric stepped protectively between them, and Bill snarled but halted his advance.

"What did you do?" Eric asked, intrigued as he stared at Sookie.

"I- I froze her," she said timidly.

"Does it harm her?" Eric said, peering interestedly down at her cowering figure.

"No," she shook her head. "She'll come out of it soon," she licked her lips nervously and frowned. "Who gave me V? And who are you?"

"I'll ask the questions," he said evenly.

"Okay," she said slowly, her posture relaxing marginally when he maintained his distance.

"Where have you had V before?" he started.

She tensed. "My friend is – was," she corrected herself haltingly and sniffled. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. Now was neither the place nor the time to break down, not in front of these people. "A vampire."

"And you thought it would be perfectly acceptable to drink her blood?" he snapped.

"No!" she shook her vehemently. "Well," she fumbled as his stare hardened. "She had just turned –"

"So you thought it was okay to use her weakened newborn state for your own advantage?" he bit out.

"No!" she shouted. "For Christ's sake will you let me answer the damned question before you jump down my throat?"

A terse silence followed her outburst and all heads swiveled toward Eric, who merely raised an eyebrow in response. "Go ahead," he said calmly.

Sookie stumbled as she unfroze, Bill wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace.

"What just happened?" she stared uncertainly around her.

"She did it," Eric motioned toward her. "She'll explain later. Now, finish answering the question."

"Okay. Well, Grace was just turned and needed blood but she didn't know how to hunt and didn't want to hurt anyone so I said she could have some of mine. What?" she said exasperatedly at their confused expressions.

"You don't smell like you've been bitten," Eric said bluntly.

"You can smell that?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Yes."

"Interesting," she mulled. "What? It is!"

"How did she drink from you without biting you?" Bill asked.

"I was learning how to draw blood for a blood drive, so I just drew some for her."

"This is all very absorbing, I'm sure," Pam drawled. "What does this have to do with the V?"

"Oh, right. She said it was too weird and refused to do it alone. And I definitely didn't want to drink my own blood, so I took a little from her and we did it together," she shrugged. "Stop looking at me like that! I just did it so she wouldn't starve."

"She's telling the truth," Sookie interrupted helpfully.

"Why would she starve? Her maker would have kept her fed. Where was her maker in all of this strangeness?" Eric said suddenly.

"He was taken."

"What?" An explosion of noise followed this pronouncement as their voices overlapped.

"STOP," Eric snapped. "Who was her maker?"

"Godric."

"What?" Eric flew toward her and she scuttled backwards. "Who took him?"

"Um…the anti-vampire church," she said tremulously.

"When?"

"A couple of weeks ago."

"Grace was his childe. It's Grace's blood on you," he said gradually as he put the pieces together. "That's why you smell like him. How did she die? Why did he turn her? What-"

Pam placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps she should start at the beginning."

"Um," she chewed her bottom lip.

"We're waiting," Eric snapped.

"Sorry," she frowned. "Just, can I ask a question?"

He stared impassively down at her, a single eyebrow arched slightly.

"Are you Eric?"

"Perhaps."

"Oh Grace," she sighed to herself. "I'm Ava, by the way," she extended a slim hand, which was rebuffed, and shrugged as she retracted it.

"Will you get on with it already?"

"Give me a minute," she retorted.

A/N: Review? PLEASE? :D :D


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: oh my god, you guys are awesome!! :D :D i'm loving all my readers and reviewers right now! So I felt super inspired and just wrote this all out (definitely one of the longest chapters I've ever done) and decided to post it immediately (sorry if there are some typos and stuff, i think i caught all of them...but...)... oh and yay whatsthefracas!! I love that we were reading each others stories and reviewing them at the same time!

Anhoo, enjoy!! And don't forget to let me know what you think!! :D

"It was…," her voice wavered and she blinked back tears as she forced herself to continue, her words steadier. "It was a couple of weeks ago."

_The moon hung full and bright against the clear, black sky. She stared wonderingly at it, the sounds of the rancorous party loud and grating behind them. Grace stumbled and fell laughingly to the ground, her drunken giggling fueling Grace's. She offered her a hand, and helped Grace back to her feet, swinging a supporting arm around her shoulders. _

"_You are so drunk," she chuckled as they swayed down the dimly lit dirt road. _

"_You're drunk too," Grace said petulantly._

"_Yeah, but at least I can stand up by myself." _

"_Mea-" she hiccupped. "My dad's going to be sooo mad." _

"_That's why we're going to my house," she laughed._

"_Oh, that's a good idea," Grace nodded seriously. "Since my dad's- Ooh, what's that?" she pointed unsteadily toward a light in the darkness._

"_I don't know, but I don't think we should-"_

"_Come on!" Grace insisted, grabbing hold of her hand and jerking her strongly toward the field. _

"_Jesus," she muttered. "You're strong when you're drunk." _

_She stumbled after her and stopped dead in her tracks._

"_Oh my god," Grace echoed her thoughts behind her._

_There, standing in the middle of the field, was a man –early twenties or so – with thick, silver chains wrapped around his arms and neck. He stood there, unmoving, as three men yanked on the chains._

"_We have to help him!" Grace hissed. _

"_Okay," she bit her lip. "I'll freeze them and you move them into the trees?"_

"_I- I don't think I'm sober enough to do that."_

"_You and your fickle powers. Fine, then, I'll just freeze them? We'll have to move fast," she warned._

"_Okay. On three?"_

"_Yeah. One."_

"_Two."_

_They took a deep breath and looked at each other._

"_Three," they shouted together. She pushed with all her might, and grinned when they froze midstep. Grace ran toward the figure, who turned to look at them, and she quickly followed._

_Hurriedly, they unwrapped the chains, wincing at the sight of his burned, livid skin. _

"_Are you okay?" she asked gently._

"_I am. Thank you," his old, brown eyes turned upon hers and she shivered at the sheer power that emanated. _

"_Ava!" Grace screamed as she hurtled herself toward her, the force driving both of them into the ground. There was a whoosh as three bodies fell, lifeless, onto the spongy grass._

"_Oh my god. Grace," she turned over, her hands frantically pushing at Grace's denim jacket as she tried to find the source of the blooming, red circle. "Grace, stay with me. Grace," she sobbed as she saw the gunshot wound. It was bleeding too fast for her to stop, and she put her hands uselessly over it, pressing hard even as she knew it'd do no good._

"_I can save her," his soft melodious voice spoke behind her. "But it will kill her first."_

_She stared down at her best friend – her sister by all but blood – as the seconds of her life ticking out of her. "Do it," she whispered. _

_In a flash, he had pulled Grace to him, his fangs driving into her jugular. _

_And then it was over. _

_His mouth left her neck, still bloody, and he opened his own vein and placed it against her lips. For a moment, she wondered if it had worked, but Grace begin drinking, slowly and then more ravenously. _

_He drew away from her, placing her gently on the ground. "I'm going to dig a hole and we're both going to get in. I need you to bury us. Can you do that?"_

_She nodded hesitantly. "Yes." _

_He had made quick work of the three bodies, his subtle glance at the silver chains indicating that was hers to dispose of, before digging a deep hole with a shovel scrounged from god-knows-where. He tenderly picked up Grace and settled her into the freshly dug air before lying down beside her, his arms wrapping protectively around her. She stared down over them, her heart pained, as she picked up a shovel full of dirt._

"_What's your name?" she whispered._

"_Godric," he murmured._

"_Thank you Godric," she said softly as she buried her best friend. _

_**_

_She looked up as the earth shuffled. After a quick trip back to her house – to wash and grab a change of clothes for Grace and Godric (she had unpacked one of the two boxes of clothing she had left of her brother's) – she had stationed herself by them, watching warily for any movement. _

"_Grace," she breathed as her familiar, dark-haired head surfaced. Godric stopped her, a dirt-streaked hand holding her back. She watched as Grace moved fluidly out of the ground, her features blank and movements tense._

"_Ava," she whispered, her arms outstretched toward her. She shot a questioning look at Godric who nodded, and she ran to embrace her best friend._

"_Grace, I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I thought I'd lost you." _

"_I'm sorry too," Grace whispered, blood coursing down her face._

"_What're you sorry?" Ava laughed through her tears and pulled back. "I'm the one who killed you and you saved my life and why are you bleeding?" _

"_You don't have normal fluids anymore," Godric interrupted softly. _

"_Oh," Grace wiped her face gingerly. "Guess I shouldn't cry anymore."_

"_Like you'd ever be able to do that," Ava laughed tearfully. "Although," she sniffled, "that's pretty freaky."_

"_Nice," she laughed, pushing her lightly._

_Ava staggered backwards, holding her shoulder tenderly. "Ow."_

"_Oh my god, I'm so so sorry," Grace gasped. _

"_You're going to have to be careful. You're a lot stronger," Godric said, stopping her. "Are you okay?"_

"_Yeah," she said lightly, her smile slightly strained by the pain. "I'll be fine." _

"_No, you're not," he said, his eyes narrowing. He bit his finger and offered it to her. "One drop should do it."_

"_Excuse me?" she recoiled. "She's the vampire. Or. You both are." _

"_It'll help heal you," Godric smiled as he cut his finger again. "Trust me."_

"_Okay," she said slowly as he placed his finger against her lips. Warily, her tongue flicked out and she licked the proffered drop of blood. Her body grew warm, and all pain dissipated as she swallowed. "Wow." _

"_DON'T MOVE VAMPIRE!" a voice shouted from the trees. Ava whirled around and gasped as person after person stepped out and surrounded them. _

_Her eyes widened. "You guys have to get out of here. I'll freeze them," she whispered to Grace._

"_You can't possibly freeze all of them for long enough to run all the way across the field and escape," Grace exclaimed softly._

"_I'll be fine. You guys just get out of here!" she said impatiently. "Godric, get her out of here. Now." Lifting her hands, she moved to –_

"_Stop!" Godric commanded, his authoritative voice spreading far across the field. "All of you. I will go peacefully with you, but you must let the two women go." _

"_Godric," they whispered together. _

"_We can get out of this. You don't have to do that," Grace insisted._

"_I am your maker. It is my duty to protect you." _

"_Godric," Ava snapped. "And just how are you going to protect her if you're _dead_?"_

"_Take her to Eric. In Shreveport. He'll teach her and protect her until I can," he murmured. _

"_Stop this, we can still get out of this. I know we can," she said frantically. _

"But there was no stopping him," Ava finished.

"Godric," Eric muttered, shaking his head.

"What happened to Grace?" Sookie asked quietly.

"They let us go. And we went to Grace's family first, but the minute they found out she was a vampire…"

"_You're no daughter of ours," Mr. Chu barked, shutting the door firmly in her face. _

"_Grace," she put her arms around her and pulling her close. She couldn't watch her face shatter, couldn't see the blood drip down her face, and held her tightly. "You have me. Forever." _

"_I know," she said dully._

"_I'm so sorry," Ava said, the words feeling flat even as they slipped through her lips. _

"_It's okay. Let's go h," she paused and took a deep breath. "Home."_

"_Okay."_

"Your family was okay with it?" Sookie asked, her features confused by whatever she was hearing and…hearing.

"My family is Grace," she said brusquely. "_Was_ Grace. Do you want to hear this, or not?"

"Yes," Eric spoke up, a terse glare preventing Sookie from challenging him.

"We went back to my house and started planning and getting everything together," she continued. "And then we hit the road and tried to figure out the vampire thing along the way. We got to about 75? 100 miles from here when…we…

A/N: Read and review? :D


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: YAY!!! So i should totally be studying for my midterms but....here's the product of my procrastination!!

"We went back to my house and started planning and getting everything together," she continued. "And then we hit the road and tried to figure out the vampire thing along the way. We got to about 75? 100 miles from here when…we…

"_We've been here too long," Grace asserted. _

"_What?" Ava said tiredly, dropping her apron and shoes by the door. She collapsed heavily onto the couch beside her, taking the proffered cup of tea with a grateful smile._

"_We've been here too long," she repeated patiently, folding her long, perfect limbs beneath her. _

"_We have no more money," Ava brought up unnecessarily. They both knew they were out – the feeble funds she had liquidated were scarcely enough for a week, despite all the stretching and penny pinching. They couldn't fly – the few airlines that allowed vampires were far too expensive for them, so it had been a slow trek across the country. Driving until a few hours before dawn, and then trying to find a vampire friendly motel or somewhere, anywhere, to bunk down for the day. _

_She'd look for a place to work until they could scrounge up enough to make the next leg of the trip, and Grace would too – if they were in a friendly part of the country. Otherwise, she'd work on setting up a temporary home until they were ready to move on. It was hard to pull up enough money when motels would eat up most of what she could make, but somehow they'd manage._

_They had to. _

"_I know. But. We've been here too long."_

"_We don't have enough to leave. We barely have enough for a full tank of gas," Ava pointed out. "Just another day or two. And then we'll go. We're almost at Shreveport." _

"_I-"_

"_One more day," she pled._

"_One more day," Grace agreed reluctantly. _

_The next night she had come back, just an hour after dusk, to their little motel ablaze. _

"_Grace," she screamed, sprinting toward the flames. "Grace!" she shouted desperately, unable to find an open doorway. _

"_Ava!" she heard a voice call from behind her._

"_Grace, oh god. Thank you," she sobbed as she clung to her friend who stared open-mouthed at the fire-consumed building. "I thought – I thought you were in there."_

"_Ssh," she hushed, rubbing small circles on her back. "Ssh…"_

_Grace stiffened abruptly, her senses alert as figures stepped out of the shadows. "Get out of here," Grace said in a harsh undertone as she pushed her away. "Now."_

"_What?" she said, confused, her human reflexes too slow for Grace's. _

"_GO!" she ordered. _

"_No, I'm not leaving you!" Ava said, rushing toward her. _

_Arms wrapped around her, and she clawed at her attackers._

"_Fuckin fang-banger," one of them swore as she landed a vicious kick behind the knee. "Just put a bullet through her head and be done with it." He – someone – drove a fist into her ribs, and she coughed wetly as she felt her ribs splinter. _

"_Don't you dare hurt her," Grace growled, ignoring the ropes of silver that burned her flesh with every movement, as she struggled toward her._

_Ava tried in vain to free her hands, bound and caught in the grasp of one of them. "Leave her alone," she cried. Adrenalin coursed through her, and elbowed and kicked and bit and punched blindly, until the hands holding her released enough for her to stagger toward Grace. _

_She pushed her power, managing to freeze one, maybe two. They regrouped quickly, and suddenly a rain of fists and feet fell upon her. Screams were ripped from her, and distantly she could hear Grace fighting valiantly to reach her. Hands gripped her harshly by the elbows, pulling her unwilling and unstable body to her feet._

"_Watch," one of them growled into her ear, his grungy hands gripping her chin and directing it towards Grace. "Watch as we kill the vampire."_

"_NO," she hollered, "NO!" she twisted in their grip as one of them approached Grace wielding a long wooden stick – a stake, she realized slowly. "Stop," she begged one of them desperately. "Please, _please_, please don't hurt her. Please." They stared stonily at her, eyes cold and unseeing. She turned toward Grace. "No," she sobbed. "Please no."_

_Grace's eyes met hers, her bright blue to her sobbing brown. _

"_I love you sis," Grace mouthed. And then the world was whooshing around her and past her, she was flying out of their grasps, her eyes still locked with Grace's. _

_She didn't understand at first, and then she did. She was sending her away, using her last breath of power to push her as far away as she could. _

_To save her._

_The stake entered her heart, and Ava swore she could feel it too. There was a splatter, and she wailed soundlessly as the air tore the sound from her throat. _

_There was a thump. _

_A pair of vivid blue eyes stared down at her._

"_Grace_," _she breathed._

_And then the world went blissfully dark._

A/N: Remember reviews=love! :D :D :D


	5. Chapter 5

There weren't any words to follow what she had said. Even Ava sat there blankly, unseeing and still as she stared down into her lap. All the questions that had bubbled up to the surface, all the feelings she had struggled to grasp control of, everything had disappeared into the void of her loss.

She was cold.

Numb.

She should feel something, shouldn't she? Despondence. Anger. Fear. Desolation. Relief (talking was supposed to be cathartic, right? Was supposed to make that growing, seeping whole in her chest fade away or ease some imagined burden from her shoulders. That's the way it went in books…). She…

She felt cold. And empty.

There was talking above her, vague and indistinct sharp sibilants of a language spoken too fast for her to follow.

Someone was bending down, crouching in front of her, the guy she'd landed on – his face still and smooth as he spoke but she couldn't hear him over the rushing in her ears. Didn't want to.

Nothing really mattered any more.

His fingers were on her chin, lifting it until her eyes met his. There was a flicker of impatience and worry as he spoke again, his words distinct and deliberate. But she couldn't follow what she couldn't – wouldn't – hear.

And then there were hands, wintry white and icy, on her upper arms, tugging soothingly until she stood wavering on her feet. A soft nudge and she took a step, hesitant and unsteady like a toddler just finding her feet, before she faltered and crumbled. Strong arms caught her, stopped her from feeling the hard ground against her knees and hands, and suddenly she was being lifted, carried like a child.

_Shock_.

She caught a word in the flurry that escaped his lips as they moved into the darkness, out of the club and into the world again, and she cradled it the way he cradled her.

Shock.

It must be her they were talking about, she decided dimly. Was that what this flatness was? Shock? Did it matter what they called it when Grace was…

They were entering a house, his firm steps on the hardwood floor, echoed by the click-clack of the one who followed. He was sitting down, holding her in his lap, and then there was something warm and wet against her lips.

_Drink_, she heard. The voice was gentle but firm, and so far away. _What could it hurt?_ she thought as she let the hot liquid fill her mouth and slide down her throat, heating her from the inside until the jagged edges of her coldness melted away and her hazy mantle of protection slipped away with it, leaving her naked and open and vulnerable to the world and all its emotions and missing people.

_No more_, she wanted to say, even as she drank. She wanted to be remote and anesthetized to it all. She didn't want to feel the torrential maelstrom that lurked just out of sight, waiting to tear her down.

She pushed weakly at the wrist, burrowing her head into his chest. There was surprise, she could sense it, at something she had done, and then a gentle hand was running its fingers through her hair.

_Sleep_.

Cold lips against her forehead, and then she was drifting into the shielding warmth of slumber.

**

Ava awoke slowly, her pale limbs stretching languorously as the last vestiges of sleep fluttered away from her. She exhaled deeply for a moment before leisurely opening her eyes.

An unfamiliar ceiling bathed in faint light greeted her.

She froze, unsure of where she was or how she got there. The last thing she could remember…

Grace and she had had breakfast at 3am (a little ritual so they could always eat at least one meal together. She often missed dinner as most of her waitressing gigs tended to run late into the night). And then Grace had said good night and gone to bed, and she had gone to her first job and then her second and then…

And then she remembered.

The fire.

The-

She couldn't even say it. Couldn't even think it.

Her legs moved of their own will, and she found herself curling up into the fetal position, her arms wrapping protectively around her knees. Her eyes squeezed shut and she struggled to control her breathing, to fight down her tears and…


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks all my lovely reviewers! :D :D Sorry about the wait, but I wasn't sure how to frame this part...tell me what you think!!

She woke up alone. Of that fact she was acutely aware. Her back felt oddly cool, as though she had lost some source of heat, and her face was flushed and puffy from shed and unshed tears.

Had she been sleeping with someone?

Shaking her head at that impossibility, and attributing her strange thoughts to an electrolyte imbalance or … something, she heaved herself out of bed.

And stared down at her bare legs.

She had been wearing jeans before. She was sure of that. Her gaze shifted upward, and she fingered the light, inexplicably soft, white men's t-shirt. Someone had changed her out of her clothes, she deduced – more slowly than normal, though she was quite proud of herself for being able to form any coherent thoughts at this point.

The gentle afternoon sun slid slowly away from her, across the mahogany hard wood floor, as sunset descended. She rubbed her left arm unconsciously and frowned at the sticky feeling that remained on her fingers.

Shower, she decided as she wrinkled her nose at the messy remnants of –

She stopped that thought there. She couldn't break down again. Not now, not when the others would be waking soon. Later, someday soon, she would properly mourn – when this was all over.

Padding quietly out of the sumptuously decorated bedroom and into the equally luxuriously-outfitted bathroom, she stripped off the shirt that was not hers and turned on the water. As the shirt slipped over her head and into her hands, she found herself unconsciously drawing the material to her face and inhaling deeply.

It smelled male, clean but still scented by the man who had worn it before. There was the sharp undercurrent of strength – which she had never known had a scent, but there it was – mixed with…loneliness? She must be losing her mind, she sighed as she carefully hung the shirt behind the door. Feeling smells. Honestly.

She stepped into the hot, steaming shower, exhaling contentedly as the water stripped the things she could not face from her skin.

**

Eric didn't know why he had done it.

No, scratch that. He had done it because he couldn't sleep with her damn mewling and twisting _pain_ resounding faintly in the back of his head and body, a _wonderful_ side-effect of the bond his blood wrought.

Yes, he nodded, as he rose from his massive bed. (No self-respecting vampire slept in a coffin – unless they were traveling by air, and even then…). It had been to ensure he got enough sleep. That was all.

That was why he had headed toward her room as he felt her awaken into a cocoon of anguish. That was why he had the curtains drawn (he knew he had been right to have all the windows installed with specially-designed "curtains" which would descend with a flick of the light switch outside of every room.) so he could slide into bed behind her, his arms wrapping of their own accord around her.

She had calmed soon after that, but he had not stolen away until shortly before sunset. He had fallen asleep, he rationalized, comforted by the seductive smell of her blood and steady breathing.

Yes, it had all be purely selfish.

He was selfish. And damn proud of it.

It was about an hour after sunset, he had enjoyed a good hour and half – two hours in his own bed (though his sleep had been more restless than he cared to admit) and he found himself checking on her through the bond even as he rose.

A pointed, staccato knock turned his attention toward the shut door.

"Yes?" he said, knowing Pam would hear him, and continued toward the sink. There was a distinctly distasteful sensation in his mouth, probably from that fangbanger he had fed from after putting her to sleep. He hated feeding from the easy, the willing – the ones who prostrated themselves at his feet, where was the challenge in that?

Not to be misunderstood, he disliked _feeding _from them, but their adoration and devotion he accepted. It had been late and he was too lazy to hunt/seduce the not-quite-willing-at-first, purer girls he preferred.

Pam appeared behind him, clad in a simple white towel, looking disgruntled. He raised his head uninterestedly and waited.

"There's no more hot water."

"That's not possible," he dismissed.

"Your little _kitten_," she sneered, "has evidently used it all." _Probably trying to drown herself_, she added almost too faintly to be heard.

He straightened abruptly and flashed up the stairs towards her quarters.

And threw open the door to the bathroom.

She shrieked in surprise from where she sat in the tub and hugged her body to herself.

"Don't you knock?" she yelped.

He tossed a towel toward her as he shut off the water, noting irritatedly at it's cold (even to him) temperature.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" he barked.

Awkwardly, she struggled to wrap the now-wet towel around herself without revealing anymore. He growled in impatience and grabbing another, larger towel, wrapped it around her and hoisted her out of the tub and toward the bed. She struggled in his grasp, cursing and kicking, until he tossed her easily onto the couch – having decided the bed was a temptation he did not need at the moment. The sight of her in a towel and smelling of him was already driving him mad.

He yanked a heavy blanket from the trunk at the base of the bed and enveloped her several times around in it. Once she was safely insulated, and he could sense her body temperature slowly rising, he seated himself beside her.

**

"_Are you trying to kill yourself?"_

Was she?

She shivered, her teeth chattering, as she suddenly became aware of how cold she was – how cold the water was. Was she?

Not intentionally.

She had fought as he unceremoniously picked her up and chucked her onto the couch – which, she had not noticed before – but settled down as he cosseted her in blankets, her mind spinning with his words.

She wasn't trying to kill herself. She had just forgotten and failed to noticed that the temperature of the water had slowly dropped. It was like that frog in slowly heating water thing. Only, hers was going the other way. She had just been distracted. Right?

He was speaking now, and she struggled to focus her mind on his words.

"I'll get you some clothes later, but you can borrow something from Pam for now."

"ERIC!" Pam's voice cut through the air.

"That's okay," she said hastily, trying to calm her shivering. He seemed upset – pissed? – at her for getting that cold, and she didn't want to remind him of it with rattling words. And she didn't really want to wear the uptight vampire's (who dressed like a president's wife) clothes anyway.

"Are you going to go around naked then?" he drawled.

"Would you like me to?" she snapped.

"Yes."

"Too bad," she rolled her eyes. "Can I just borrow a t-shirt and jeans?"

"From me?"

"Why not?"

He stared at her for a moment, wondering just how much damage cold water did to human brains.

"Yes, I know you're taller and wider than I am," she added, "and it'll be fine."

"If you say so," he lifted an eyebrow and there was a whoosh and a few seconds of prolonged blinking on her part, before a black t-shirt and jeans were tossed at her.

"Could you _not_ do that? Or at least warn a person?" she said as she struggled to free her arms.

"No."

She blinked and shook her head before returning to her struggle.

"Stop moving," he said. "You're still below normal human temperature."

"Fine," she sighed, having realized she couldn't get out without his help. It was oddly comfortable anyway, nestled amongst these blankets.

"You still have things to answer."

"Okay," she shrugged. "Shoot."

"How did you do, whatever you did, to Sookie?"

"It's my gift," she said simply.

"Gift."

"Everyone in my family has a gift. That's the way my parents' marriage was arranged," she clarified. "To maximize gifts. I got a kind of defunct version. My family is strongest at telekinesis, my brother's fantastic. He could push bullets and things he can't even see without thinking about it by the time he was five. I can," she bit her lip. "I can freeze. Some things. I guess, it's like I move the air around the person until they can't move? I don't really know."

"Your friend. Telekinetic as well?"

"Yeah, although she was always raw power over finesse. She didn't have a whole lot of control, and it was really strongly tied to her emotional state."

"She was the one who sent you to me. How?"

"I have no idea," Ava said honestly. "She's never been able to do that. Although, I guess, she never tried either."

He nodded, accepting and ruminating stoically over this answer. "How strong is your _gift_?"

"Not that strong," she admitted. "I can do a couple of people, but the more people, the less time they stay that way. And I can do vampires," she added, anticipating his next question. "But only the younger ones, and for very short periods of time. I could freeze Grace for maybe a minute or two if she didn't expect it and I was _really_ concentrating. But it wipes me out pretty fast."

"Hmm."

"Can I ask you a question?"

He raised an eyebrow, which she took to be a yes.

"Why are doing all of this?"

**

She licked her lips nervously when he didn't answer and he wondered to himself if she knew how desirable and captivating that simple motion was; if she knew and did it purposely to drive him to distraction.

"Letting me stay here, lending me clothes," she bowed her head and almost whispered the next part, "giving me blood."

He watched she nestled into the blankets as a way to distract herself from his piercing gaze. No, he realized, it was that innocence which made it so alluring. That innocence, which he wanted to so completely strip her of…

Why did he help her? Save her? It had been a split second decision, rash by most accounts, but in that instant between the stopping of her heart and the giving of blood there had been no other choice. Letting her die had just felt wrong. He didn't know why, human life was hardly sacred to him, but he just couldn't let her die.

He felt her expectant gaze and he opted for the simplest answer.

"You helped Godric."

A/N: Read and review? :D


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This takes place during Season 2, Episode 3 – with some modification. Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers!! :D

She stepped out of the closet a few moments later, and Eric fought down that Viking urge – male urge – to pitch her onto the bed and...

He inhaled deeply – an unnecessary, but remnant human trait he had yet to rid himself of – and waited for his fangs to re-ascend before speaking _(and hopefully before she noticed, _not_ that he cared how she felt. It was purely pragmatism. A terrified, screaming human would be an nuisance_, he assured himself._)_

Ava mistook his silence for anger – or disapproval, she wasn't sure which would be worse at this point, and categorically refused to contemplate that thought in front of him. "I just pinned up your clothes," she said hurriedly. "They're not cut or anything."

Eric had trouble, even with her words, believing that she was wearing his clothes, despite the heady smell of himself all over her (which made stifling his Viking reflexes all the harder). The black t-shirt had been cinched in the back, pulling the dark material taut over her bra-less breasts. (Pam's bras were simply too large to be adjusted, not that he minded as he raked his eyes over her). His pants hung low around the hips, pinned up along the bottom and the waist folded in to accommodate her much smaller figure. A thin line of perfect, snow-white flesh flitted in and out of sight as her shirt slipped up and down with her movements.

"That's fine," he said stiffly. "I won't be wearing them again."

"Oh…okay." She fiddled needlessly with the tucked hem of the t-shirt, her hair falling protectively into a straight-black curtain around her face.

He wanted to push back those silky strands, tuck the pieces behind her ear and run his fingers along the along the exposed, smooth curve of her jaw until they reached those soft, lightly pursed lips and… but what came sharply out instead was, "Stop fussing or I'll stop it for you."

She ceased abruptly, her hands dropping to her sides. "Sorry." Her bottom lip found its way between her teeth, and she chewed absently as she blinked up at him, eyes wide and searching.

"Come," his hand wound firmly around her elbow, and he gave a not-quite-gentle-tug.

"Where are we going?" she said, allowing herself to be pulled along.

"To Fangtasia," he said shortly.

**

Ava was bored. Eric had deposited her in his office over two hours ago with the firm instructions not to leave.

Or touch anything.

Yes. He had actually _left_, only to return moments later and snap, "Don't touch anything" at her. As if she were some erstwhile, mischievous toddler about to wreak destruction on his precious office, she harrumphed to herself. There wasn't even anything interesting in the room.

Well…that was a lie, she admitted to herself.

There were several curious artifacts along the bookshelves and atop his desk, a mysterious locked iron door, and….the desk itself. There were so many drawers, locked drawers, which she was itching to open. Her bobby-pin was in her hand before she realized it, and she was seconds away from slipping it into the bottom drawer (people always hid the best things there) and testing the lock-breaking skills her brother had taught her once upon a time when her brain caught up with her.

If he caught her...

But…the drawers….

Irritation made her reckless and the bobby pin was in the lock when the door slammed open. She surreptitiously slid it back into her hair as she straightened.

"Back so soon?" she drawled, hoping against hope that he wouldn't notice the faint tremor to her voice.

He did, though, he opted to feign otherwise. For now, at least. He lobbed a neon yellow, Forever 21 bag at her before tossing himself lithely onto the couch.

Ava eyed the bag as it tumbled to the ground (she wasn't foolish enough to believe she could catch it with any semblance of grace and her powers felt off today, buzzing like wasps around her rather than the gentle, soothing shroud she was used to) and glanced curiously over at Eric.

"Clothes," he said, his eyes closed and arms crossed behind his head.

She slipped out of his squashy, rolling armchair and knelt down to retrieve to the bag – blithely unaware of his appreciative smirk at the view her –his—shirt afforded him. There were several cute shirts, all in understated colors that perfectly complemented her style and skin tone, she was pleased to note. A few pairs of dark-wash jeans that, by her cursory glance, seemed precisely her size.

"Thank you," she said softly, trusting his sensitive hearing to catch her words.

There was a mumbled grunt and then he shifted to face her, arms crossed in front of his chest. "We're leaving for Dallas tomorrow. At dawn. Be ready to leave by then."

It took her a moment to process his words, and by then he had flipped back onto his back and shut his eyes. She considered letting the matter lie, and waiting until they reached Dallas to figure out why they were there (god knows she wouldn't be able to stop him from dragging her there), but, she wasn't quite that patient.

"What? Why Dallas?"

"Godric."

Ava sat there for a moment, running his word around her head. Godric. Eric had figured out where Godric was, then? And they were going to rescue him? Like Mission Impossible, her mind supplied helpfully, wandering away on a tangent. Eric was much prettier than Tom Cruise. What would he look like in a black…

"Stop thinking."

She blinked and looked up at him, cheeks coloring quickly. For a moment, she wondered if he too could read minds.

"Come here."

"What?"

That, apparently, was not the response he had wanted. An arm snaked around her waist and hoisted her up, drawing her beside him onto the couch.

"Hey!" she twisted in his tightening grasp. "You can't just – mmphgh."

His hand clasped over her mouth, and he murmured – eyes closed, "Shh. No more talking."

She frowned, eyes narrowing, but decided against resisting. It was hardly a fight she wanted to win, she concluded, as his hand moved to her hip and he moved her closer to him. Besides, this was oddly comforting.

**

"ERIC! ERIC!"

Bill's frantic voice drifted through Ava's sleepy haze, and she mumbled a complaint as Eric fluidly removed himself from the couch. She sat up slowly, and Eric paused at the doorway before reappearing by her side and lifting her sluggish form into his arms.

_It's faster this way_, he justified as he strode quickly toward the commotion. She protested, half-heartedly, before snuggling sleepily back into his form.

A soft smile slid across Eric's face as his stoic mask faltered for a moment.

**

Ava grimaced sympathetically as Dr. Ludlow drove a finger into Sookie's clawed back, her finger crooking to remove an abscess from one of the slash marks. At least Sookie didn't have to feel it for as long the freeze was able to hold. Which, unfortunately, wasn't very long today. Something was unsettling her, and thus her powers.

She could feel the hold slipping, and winced as Sookie's scream pierced through the still, previously-silent air. Bill ran into the room, fear marring his classic features, with Eric a few steps behind him. Another shriek ripped through the air.

"What're you doing to her?!" Bill shouted.

"Hold her down or let her die. Your choice," Dr. Ludlow snapped.

"Do something!" Bill bellowed at Ava as his arms seized Sookie's.

"Don't yell at her," Eric retorted sharply. "Just relax," he whispered soothingly into Ava's ear. She nodded tightly and struggled to re-center herself. His large hand clasped her shoulder gently and she felt the comforting hum of her powers rewrapping themselves around her.

She pushed outward…

And was gratified to hear Sookie's screams disappear.

"Well done," Eric said in a low undertone that made her insides liquefy. She swallowed a smile.

A/N: Read and review! Remember reviews=love 3 :D


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Oh…my…goodness…YAYAY! So many reviews!!! :D I totally should be studying, but, after all of those sweet reviews I just had to write another chapter! It's on the shorter side tho….:/

Oh, and I know some people were wondering if I'm going to include the maenad arc in this story. I'm definitely _not_. I just used it as a plausible way to bring in Sookie and Bill for the Fellowship showdown that's coming soon :D.

__

"You can give her blood now," Dr. Ludlow sighed, patting the wounds gingerly. "Her body should accept it."

Bill nodded, and his fangs descended as he raised his wrist. He was stopped by Eric, whose hand wrapped around Bill's wrist.

"Mine is much stronger. Allow me," he smirked.

"Never," Bill snarled. Eric removed his hand with a light chuckle.

Ava glowered. Moments after she had reestablished her hold over Sookie, freezing her into peaceful oblivion, Eric had seated himself contentedly across from her. She had seen his fangs descend, and eyes dilate in arousal as he considered her naked upper form. And now he was offering her his blood.

Of course, she knew she was being irrational. Eric was his own person, and _they_ were…nothing.

But still!

Half an hour ago, he had had his arms wrapped protectively around her. And now he was lusting blatantly after another vampire's woman…

She watched a spark of jealousy flicker across his face as he watched Bill and Sookie's exchange.

"Careful. You'll overcook her."

Bill gently extricated himself and lowered Sookie's head onto the table, pure love and adoration written and woven into every gesture and expression on his face – and hers.

Now she was the jealous one.

**

"- idea what you're referring to," Bill said ingenuously. Ava's eyebrows furrowed at the few words she had caught upon entering the room.

"I imagine she's referring to the human in my basement. The human who traded sexual service with a vampire in order to sell his blood. Which, as you know, is a grave offense," Eric said casually as he strode toward the pair.

Ava followed uncertainly behind him. Eric kept humans in his basement??

"His name is Lafayette, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself for what you've done to him," Sookie seethed. Her hand jerked back and across Eric's face, who smirked amusedly.

"I'm glad you're feeling better."

_What?!_ Ava stared incredulously. _Sookie slapped Eric…Sookie was still breathing…Eric is _smiling??!

This was all getting to be too much for her and her sleep-deprived brain to process. She sat down silently on a conveniently located barstool, and rested her chin tiredly in her hands.

"And may I add, that color suits you very well," he smiled charmingly.

"Go to hell," Sookie snapped.

"Sookie! Sookie, enough," Bill growled, grasping her arm warningly.

"Oh, it's not nearly enough. They've tortured him and bitten him and shot him and kept him down there in his own filth for weeks," Sookie raged.

"Is this true?" Bill asked reluctantly.

"There are others who would have done far worse, and you know it," Eric replied easily.

"You're gonna let him go, right now, or I swear I'm going to the police!" Sookie swore.

There was a snarl, and Eric's face lunged forward. Ava jumped at the sudden movement, and her hands snapped out instinctively to freeze the scene. Her power bubbled at the surface of her skin, but she couldn't seem utilize it.

What the hell was going on?

Her powers had never fizzled – no matter how drained or emotionally scattered she felt – when she experienced a real surge of fear like this. Add that to the fact that her powers had been short circuiting all day…yes, she knew she should have been sleeping, god knows she was tired enough, but she couldn't seem to quiet her teeming mind enough to do so. She had lain in her room (well, Eric's guest room, but it was sort of hers…kind of…for now at least, she shushed that thought irritatedly) for a few moments until the oppressive silence had driven her to drag herself out of bed and explore the spacious room, the quiet clatter of her movement breaking the overwhelming quiet.

She had padded over to the washroom when her inherent klutziness reappeared and a heavy book tumbled to the ground as she stumbled into the bookshelf. For a moment, she had stared at it – her hands open and outstretched – unable to believe her powers had failed her. Surely it was a fluke?

But, twenty-seven dropped books later…Well, there went that theory. Which just left, she sighed bitterly as she remembered the last time her gift had gone haywire.

It had been four years. After a particularly nasty fight, her brother had finally declared he had had enough of her parents and their machinations and manipulations and roared out of the house and driveway. Her parents had screamed profanities and threats of disownment , but they had fallen on deaf ears. She had foolishly believed he would be back again, in a day or three. When things had calmed down, she had assured herself, he would be back. He wouldn't really leave her there. Alone.

But he had. There had been the occasional, mysterious letter that appeared on her pillowcase (courtesy of his powers, she was sure) but she hadn't seen him since that cool, autumn afternoon.

Her powers had been temperamental and unwieldy then, but nothing like this. Never when she had reflexively called for them. Eric was speaking again, she noted dimly, and she pulled herself away from her train of thought. She'd figure it out later.

"I do not respond well to threats." Eric stared intently for a moment, before he calmed and eyed her speculatively. "But perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement."

**

She was sitting in his office. Alone. Again.

Eric had ushered Sookie and Bill into the stockroom for their "arrangement discussion," with Pam joining them later, judging by the clicking and scuffling noise she had heard heading in that direction. And then he had put her in here.

Again.

The door opened and Ava glanced up from her spot on the couch. She fumed as Eric strode over to her, a cocky, self-satisfied grin on his face as he sat down beside her and slid an arm around her shoulders.

Shrugging out from under his arm, she stood up and settled herself behind Eric's desk.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

"No," she lied, running a finger idly along the heavy, maple desk.

"Uh-huh."

"Did you come up with a suitable 'arrangement'?"

"Yes," he smirked. "Sookie and Bill will be joining us in Dallas tomorrow."

"Lovely."

"Indeed."

"And…La," she paused as she tried to remember what Sookie had said, "…Lafayette?"

"Is not your concern," he said coolly. That had been the primary reason he had insisted she stay in his office. She did not need to see Lafayette's beaten, bitten form, or realize just how vicious and cruel he could be. He would prefer to keep her ignorant of that for as long as possible. "We will be leaving in an hour. Be ready."

He was on his feet and out the door before she could say another word.

A/N: Read and review? Please? Reviews = reader 3


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Alrighty all. Here's the next chapter! Not terribly long, but I have good and bad news. The bad news is I will be heading into hibernation for the next two weeks as midterms and MCAT studying commences. The good news…I have the next three chapters written! And I've got about 98% of the story plotted out, just waiting to be written. So, my goal is to post a chapter every Friday…of course, I could be encouraged to post earlier *wink wink, hint hint* … via reviews :D

Just a side note, some readers have mentioned that the vampys go inanimate during the day. Is that what the series goes by? (Anybody know?) I vaguely remember Bill waking up and doing that burning-in-the-sun-to-get-to-Sookie thing in the 1st season, and Bill and Sookie being awake during the day in Dallas in the 2nd…but, I really don't know what the True Blood "vampire lore" is. (If anyone knows, please tell me!) So, I'm just going to ignore it :D. They sleep during the day, sleep is highly necessary, but they can get up like us mere mortals. Or, at least the older ones can!

Oh! And everyone should go listen to Carrie Underwood's "Cowboy Casanova" (I reference it in this chapter)…hehe, I think it totally fits Eric :D…only Eric's got a hidden sweet side, I'm certain.

__

Ava curled up against one of the many pillows that adorned her hotel bed. They had arrived in Dallas a few hours ago via Eric's private jet (she rolled her eyes at that. Of _course_, he'd charter a private jet …and refuse to tell/let Bill and Sookie along for the ride. She'd never understand the man's thought processes.). Eric had slept in coffin, she squashed a silly giggle as she remembered his highly discomfited expression as he descended into it – all the while insisting it was a "light-resistant traveling accommodation."

It had been a short, comfortable flight, although boredom had set in about half-an-hour into the trip. She had amused herself first with conversing with the pilot (Joe, a rather dull, bland man who had trouble holding up any conversation that required non-monosyllabic responses, which, she mused, was probably why Eric employed him.), but after about twenty yes-no-grunts, she had given up and tapped idly on Eric's coffin, which sat conveniently in front of her.

Evidently, the walls of the coffin were not as thick as she had imagined.

Eric had stepped out, moments after arriving in their luxurious hotel, a scowl firmly in place and threat ready on his lips. "If I ever hear that damned song again, I will chew your fingers off."

She had stared at him, wide-mouthed for a moment, uncertain of what to make of the strange threat. The facts had clicked together, seconds later, as they were being escorted to their room. The faint strains of "Cowboy Casanova" crept through Eric's mouth, before he cursed violently and glared at her now giggling form. She silenced immediately, although a mischievous smile planted itself stubbornly on her face for the rest of the walk. The flight home was going to be _very_ amusing.

The suite was gorgeous, like Eric's house. There were two rooms, separated by a huge sitting room, and Eric had veered directly toward the one on the right. To sleep, she assumed.

Kicking off her shoes by the door, she grinned as she slid across the heavy, well-waxed, hardwood floor. After a few more minutes of that (and several less than graceful stops/tumbles to the floor), she had grown bored and meandered into her room and surveyed its immenseness.

A quick shower – well, she had intended it to be a quick shower, but found pulling herself out of its heavenly perfection to be an impossibility – and she was contentedly nestled amongst the mounds of pillows and blankets and sheets.

Unfortunately, sleep proved elusive – again.

Every time she shut her eyelids, memories and images lurked menacingly behind. Nightmares plagued the few minutes of sleep she managed, leaving her shivering and close to tears.

She wasn't stupid enough to believe that she could continue to persist in this non-sleeping pattern for very much longer. But there didn't seem to be a ready solution either. So, she did what she did best.

She ignored it.

Right now, her mind was determinedly fixed on Eric.

It was patently obvious that Eric was infatuated with Sookie, which bothered her on several levels, the least of which that it was incredibly hard to compete with a bouncy, leggy blonde – especially when, she peered down at herself, her breasts were substantially less ample than hers. At least Sookie and Bill seemed completely dedicated to each other, she reassured herself. Although, she wasn't sure who in their right mind would choose Bill over Eric. (Okay, she amended, she could see Bill's allure. He was reasonably good-looking, sweet and unafraid to be openly adoring, and did _not_ keep human prisoners…all very positive traits). How long would it be until Eric's persistence paid off? Until Eric won Sookie over?

A small part of her also worried about what was to come. Not just on the romantic front, but what would happen after they found-saved-rescued Godric? They were clearly _not_ leaving until Godric was recovered, and she was certain that Eric would inevitably be successful in the end, but what would she do once he was? She knew she was a means to an end, so what happened when that end arrived?

She couldn't just keep living at Eric's. Her own sense of independence and pride would not permit that, and she needed to find something to do. Should she stay in Bon Temps? Return back home? Stay in Dallas?

They were all troubling options. She wasn't sure she was ready to leave Eric, assuming of course Eric would even tolerate her continued presence in Shreveport-Bon Temps (not that she would really give him the choice.) and there wasn't anything holding her to her home.

Her home, she shook head resignedly. Not really a home, it hadn't been for a long time – if ever – and now it was an empty mausoleum brimming with bittersweet memories of Grace and her brother and her childhood.

It _had_ been a happy childhood, before adolescence had hit and with it all the momentous responsibilities of her family. And then her brother had disappeared, leaving her to bear the brunt of her parents' expectations – for the short while they had been around.

Losing them in the accident had been hard, had hurt more than she would have thought, but she didn't know if she could absolve them for what they'd done in life. She could understand, but even three years later, she didn't know if she could forgive.

Her mind wandered to her brother. The last letter had been over half a year ago, and he had included the same vague nothings. That he was fine, that he was happy, that he hoped she was okay. She had the feeling he didn't even know their parents were dead, that he was now the sole heir to their name, legacy, and fortune (even in disgrace, he was still their beloved son).

No, he was undoubtedly waiting until he turned 25 (the age he gained access to his sizable trust fund and was truly, legally free of them) to return. Three more months.

They shared a birthday. He'd be 25, she'd be 21 on September 5th. Twins separated by four years, he used to joke.

Ava swallowed hard, now was not the time to think of the past. She needed to figure out her future.

Her future couldn't include her past. Maybe she was a coward for running from it all, for refusing to face it, but she could accept that. In between scrambling to pack and leave with Grace, she'd jotted down a terse note for her brother (if and when he returned) that included what had happened and that she was heading toward Shreveport. It was safely tucked in the concealed slot in the downstairs cupboard, their secret hiding place.

She would stay in Shreveport/ Bon Temps for now, she decided doggedly. Moving to an unknown, unfamiliar place was simply not an intelligent idea with her limited-non-existent resources. Yes, she would stay there. Find a job, maybe at Eric's club – if he was so inclined – and see if she could enroll in a nearby college.

Ava felt a little better with that bit of her future outlined. A little less lost, a little less afraid, a little more resolute. She could rebuild her old life.

No.

Now, she could build her _own_ life.

If she could only get some sleep.

A/N: Read and review! Please? :D


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Okay, another chappie for my lovely, wonderful reviewers! I know it's on the short side :( (sorry, that seems to be the trend lately) but I have another chapter waiting in queue that I _might_ be persuaded to release this weekend instead of next week… *wink wink* Hope you enjoy!

"You're joking, right?" The words were out of her mouth before she could consider how wise it was to ridicule a vampire's plan. She paused, this didn't seem like Eric's brand of thinking. Her eyes narrowed as she slowly pivoted toward Sookie.

"It's the fastest way," she said in that earnest Southern drawl Ava was coming to detest.

"It's suicide," Ava said slowly, as if she were speaking to a particularly dense child – which, was not that far from the truth. She could see Bill nodding in strong agreement from behind Sookie.

"This is not matter of asking for your approval," Eric snapped. "You are being informed of what _will_ happen. Your role will come later, once Sookie has discovered where Godric is being held."

"Fine," she bit back curtly. "It's not like us humans matter, right?" She didn't wait for an answer and whirled sharply around, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

She was very methodically ripping apart tissues into a fine pile of squares when Eric flung open the door. The heap scattered as she jumped in shock, and she swung her back toward him and crossed her arms angrily. _Real mature_, she thought to herself.

"Ava."

"Ava," he was in front of her now. She moved to turn the other way, but his strong arms grasped her firmly around the shoulders.

She scowled crossly, "You suck."

Surprise flashed across his face before he smirked, "Yes, I do."

She rolled her eyes, "That's a tired joke."

"It made you smile," he pointed out.

"Did not," she lied.

"Did too."

"Did not," she stuck her tongue out childishly.

"Don't tempt me," he chuckled ruefully as he seated himself beside her. He continued before she could ask the question floating on the tip of her tongue, "The plan stays." He held up a hand, anticipating her protest, "It's not perfect, and it's not foolproof, but it's the best one we have. Sookie will be fine, Bill will ensure that. You will be fine. _I_ will ensure that. Is that acceptable?"

She nodded dumbly. What did he mean by that? Did he, could he…care about her?

_No,_ her mind rejected.

She was being ridiculous, trying to read things that were not there.

Wasn't she?

The door shut, she hadn't even noticed him standing up and leaving, and on the other side Eric leaned weightily against it.

"You matter," he musters – giving form to the words only because he knows that she won't, _can't_, hear them.

**

Ava was standing in her bathroom half an hour before sundown, towel wrapped around her freshly-showered (she fully intended on using this miracle shower as many times as possible) midsection, as she stared exhaustedly at the foggy vanity.

30 minutes of sleep, in 5 minute increments.

Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her face tiredly before rubbing clean the steamed mirror. "Holy shit," she swore violently as she caught sight of a figure behind her.

She spun around and moved to slap Eric across his laughing face, although he caught her wrist before she could make impact. "Don't do that," she snapped irritatedly, letting her hand drop. His hand remained steadfastly clasped around her wrist.

"You shouldn't hit people," he said teasingly, his voice light with laughter.

She eyed him suspiciously. He was awfully cheery for someone about to break into a terrorist/church camp to rescue Sookie and Godric. Although, she mused absently, that probably was his idea of fun.

"You shouldn't scare the living daylights out of people."

"But I don't like light," he retorted

She snorted inelegantly at that. "Is there any particular reason you're creeping in my bathroom?"

"I'm not creeping," he corrected. "I waited until you were done with your shower and dressed before I snuck in."

"The key word in that sentence being "snuck,""she pointed out.

"Semantics."

"I'm not dressed either."

"Close enough," he shrugged negligently, his eyes lingering for a moment on the stretches of white skin tantalizingly within sight.

She rolled her eyes as she turned back toward the mirror, "Creeper." Uncapping her Neutrogena moisturizer-sunscreen (she had found it on the rather extensive list of amenities that Eric had tossed at her yesterday when he had awoken at sundown), she steadily applied a thin layer to her face and neck.

"You don't need sunscreen," Eric spoke up from behind her.

"I guess it's just habit."

"Habits should change. You're not in the sun anymore," he insisted.

"I might go in the sun."

"Do you always have a backup plan?"

She paused, and put down the container. "Yes," she said, unable to ignore the unsettling feeling that they weren't just talking about sunscreen anymore.

"Do you trust me?" his asked after a slight pause.

"Should I?"

"No," he whispered, stepping so close to her that she wondered that he wasn't touching her. He pressed a soft kiss against the smooth expanse of her neck, and her skin tingled where they met his. It took all his self control not to press his fangs, which had descended, into her now-rapidly pulsing vein and take a taste of that all-so-seductive blood. But his lips lifted, her skin still intact, and he pushed the sunscreen into her hand.

Eric stepped back and strode away before he couldn't, and – had he been human – he would've never heard her soft reply.

"I trust you."

The bottle clattered to the floor.

A/N: Read and review? :D :D Please? :D


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: YAY! TO ALL MY WONDERFUL READERS: Thank you guys for all your fantastic comments. I decided I just _had_ to give you guys the next chapter (another shortie).

This take place at episode 8. Everything has happened as it did except that Ava was with them. Oh, but remember Godric got taken! :D I decided against stretching the scene in the church into some big multi-chapter thing, cuz I didn't really like this part/ there's not a whole lot I want to change to it. So, I'm not going to write out every bit of the scenes from True Blood (which, DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN), …just a warning! Enjoy!

___

Ava lingered uncertainly by the door. She and Eric had infiltrated the Fellowship of the Sun, her power keeping bloodshed to a minimum and alarms from being sounded, when he had heard some call from his Maker and disappeared down the stairwell, the instruction to _STAY PUT_, tossed behind him.

She was about halfway through the door, Eric's command be damned, when Eric had reappeared with Sookie clutching after him.

"Where's Godric?" she asked, peering curiously behind him.

"He can take care of himself," Eric replied, the faintest spasm of uncertainty warring with his normally calm exterior. She opened her mouth to protest or question or reassure, she wasn't sure which yet, when he grasped her upper arm firmly and said, "We have to go."

She nodded, placing all those unsaid words behind her. They would get said and asked and murmured.

Later.

**

There was something sharp and pointy against her throat. And the hands cuffing hers were clammy and rough and unmoving, no matter how she struggled.

"Don't Eric!" The object pressed warningly against her neck, but she ignored it. She couldn't let him do this.

"I'll be fine," he said with a glance that made her still.

Every step he took, every clattered boot step against the cold marble, pierced her. Again and again, because she couldn't see a way out of this one.

The white-suited man was raving now. Nonsense falling from his lips like the rain that pattered against the glass windows of the cathedral. And then chains. Chains were brought and were being wrapped around and around Eric, strapping him onto the platform.

Someone was screaming. _She_ was screaming. Sookie was shouting. Bill was shouting.

There was a shot, and her eyes snapped toward the source. The reverend crumpled to the ground and Ava felt the vice-like grip around her hands loosen minutely. She took advantage of his distraction and slammed her elbow into his squashy, rotund stomach. She felt him wheeze and swung her left leg backward and around, driving it across his face and him into the ground.

Eric's face was turned toward her, his blue eyes catching hers and the tight lines around his mouth relaxing marginally at seeing her freed. There was a quirking of his lips at the sight of the man unconscious on the floor, and she grinned in response. She scrambled up toward him, proud of herself for only stumbling once, and hurriedly unwrapped the chains from around his neck and body.

He was on his feet before she had dropped the chains, and examined her quickly. "Are you okay?"

She nodded clumsily.

There was a flash and she looked up to see his hand wrapped firmly around the reverend's neck, fist clenching slightly. He glanced over at her, eyes expectant. But she wasn't one to give second chances, especially to those as undeserving as Newlin. Her conscience barely flickered as she met his gaze; her meaning clear in her impassive brown eyes: _Kill him. You'll find no blame here. _

The door slammed open and vampires streamed in. Angry and threatening and menacing.

Ava had never been so relieved.

They surrounded the Fellowship, fangs poised over exposed necks.

And then Godric appeared, looking like a heavenly being as he stood above the throng, dressed all in white. Firm and unrelenting. His mouth opened.

Something caught her eye, and she pivoted toward the lone archer, hidden behind a white column. Eric hadn't noticed, none of them had, enthralled as they were by Godric's words and presence. She didn't know how she had seen him, it shouldn't be possible. The bow was being drawn and she jumped into action.

There was a pulse as the world froze.

And then she felt empty, drained. The last thing she saw was Eric, whirling towards her – moving towards her.

_Eric_.

A/N: Read and review!! Reviews=reader love = author motivation! :D :D


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Happy Halloween peeps! :D I figured I owed you guys a treat for all the wonderful reviews. AND YAY! Over 10,000 HITS to this story!!

Ava came to slowly. She felt hazy and light-headed, but she forced herself to rise slowly, discomfited as she was by the unfamiliar surroundings. A hand was at her back, guiding her up and she spun to see its owner.

And stopped, the world rotating wildly around her.

"Slowly," Eric advised.

"Mmgh. Am I hungover?" she whimpered, eyes squeezing out the twisting world.

Two voices laughed, Eric's deep and throaty and – she peeked open one eye – another's light and rich. "Godric?"

"Hello little one," he chuckled.

"What happened?" she winced, her head resting easily on Eric's shoulder. She dimly remembered Godric appearing…but then….her head pounded as she stretched for the memory.

"One of Newlin's sycophants tried to take out Godric," Eric related, his eyes flashing furiously as the events of the last few hours swept over him. "You managed to freeze him before he could get a shot off, but it taxed you enough that you lost consciousness."

"Oh. Okay," she nodded wearily. "No one was hurt then?"

"No. Everyone is unharmed," Godric soothed, the bed depressing on her left as he took a seat beside her.

"Not everyone," Ava said, her voice trembling slightly. She didn't know if he knew about Grace, and she didn't know if she could retell that story. His arms reached around her and she folded herself into his embrace – the embrace of shared loss. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Sshh," his hand rubbed soft circles across her back. "We will speak of her later."

She nodded; her throat thick and heart heavy.

"Eric, look after her. I'll be in the main room with the others," he reached over and hugged her once more before departing, a vaguely gloomy expression flickering across his face. She shuffled that thought to the back of her mind as Eric's insistent hand pulling her close. She leaned her head against his broad chest and sighed deeply.

"Drink this," his voice rumbled above her as he pressed a Coke into her hand and a blue straw to her mouth. "You've depleted a lot of energy tonight."

"You say that to all the girls?" she jibbed as she took a small sip.

He let out surprised, genuine burst of laughter and she smiled contentedly to herself. Eric, for his part, was suddenly reminded of his conversation with Godric just moments before – before she had awoken.

_Eric carried Ava carefully into Godric's guestroom, gingerly setting her down amongst the pillows. He gently removed her sneakers and peeled back the covers to place over her, his brow furrowed in worry when she remained still. _

"_I have not seen you so concerned over a human in many many centuries," Godric spoke up from the armchair he had seated himself in upon entering the room. _

"_I-"_

"_There is nothing wrong with caring for another person," Godric interrupted smoothly. He continued before Eric attempted to justify his actions, "It is not a remonstration. It is good to see. _She_ is good for you."_

"_She will be a good pet," Eric remarked._

"_She is _not_ a pet," Godric said sharply. "I have seen you blunder many things, but I will not allow you this. I will not allow you to destroy her and yourself. She is different from those women you feed from at your club. Do not make the mistake of confusing the two again."_

She had stirred then, saving him from responding. But, in this moment, he could understand. He could finally see it; could finally see _her_.

She was pure and breath-taking and captivating and…and so much more than her blood, or her powers, or her body.

She was beautiful.

"Eric? Eric?" fingers snapped in front of his face and he jerked marginally. "Are you okay?" She stared apprehensively into his eyes.

"Yes. You should be lying down," he said, placing his arm around her shoulder. She nodded and rested against him.

"Only for a little while though," she murmured drowsily.

"Of course," he placated, stroking her hair affectionately.

"I'm serious," she said, straightening slightly. "We have to go save Godric."

"We already saved Godric."

She tsked impatiently. "From the people outside," she said thickly with a vague wave of her hand. "Didn't you see how sad he looked when he left? He doesn't wanna be out there, talking with them. So _we_ have to go save him."

Eric's eyebrows knitted together and he stared disbelievingly down at her. She was barely conscious and she had noticed what he had missed, what he had disregarded.

"Why do you want to save him?"

"Because he's important to you."

He smiled at that, reassured that she couldn't see him do so. "And how do you plan to save him?"

"We'll go out and mingle and then I'll conveniently pass out or throw up or something near Godric," she shrugged, her eyes still shut, "and the two of you will need to take me back here and while everybody's making up stories about some ménage a trois or something equally kinky and weird that probably involves death and blood and mayhem, they'll completely forget that Godric is neglecting his duties and gone and …tada?"

Holding back a chuckle, which he sensed she would not appreciate, he said calmly, "That is an interesting plan, but I'm not sure you're gonna be able to make it out there."

"Sure I can!" she protested hotly. She sat up and wavered, "Just, maybe we could do it all very quickly? Before I really pass out?"

"Okay. How about we put that plan on hold for a little until you can actually stand by yourself?"

"I can stand," she protested. Eric put his hands bracingly on her shoulders before she attempted to prove him otherwise.

"You're determined to do this, aren't you," Eric remarked.

She nodded emphatically.

He sighed, "And you're going to insist on going with me."

She nodded again.

"Very well," he conceded reluctantly. "Walk to the other side of the room by yourself, and then we'll go out and "rescue Godric". Otherwise, you stay here and rest."

"Okay," she nodded, lifting her head. "Can I have some more coke first?"

"Sure," he said, handing her the bottle. She took a swig before standing up shakily. Eric was up in a flash, but she frowned and shook her head determinedly. It took several minutes, but she eventually made her way to the other side, a triumphant grin on her face.

"Let's go!" she cheered.

"Fine. Crazy humans," he muttered, without any real vehemence. He offered her his elbow, a few vestigial remnants of chivalry alive in his body – though he wasn't apt to utilize them.

She smiled broadly, almost convincing him of her wellness if it hadn't been for the wan flatness in her eyes, as she linked her arm through his. Eric was essentially carrying her full weight, although neither let on to their awareness of that fact, as they left the room.

It wasn't hard to locate Godric, there was a weaving line that pointed him out better than any neon sign could. Most of the vampires deferred readily to Eric, although some like Stan growled angrily before stepping aside, and they were soon standing before Godric.

"Eric. Ava," he smiled.

"Hiya Godric," she said, unwinding her arm from Eric. She bent forward and whispered conspiratorially, "We're here to rescue you!"

"Is that so?" Godric asked, amused. His sharp eyes had caught, and quietly noted, the way Eric's face had tightened in jealousy as Ava leaned toward him. He had seen the glimmer of concern float across his chide's face at Ava's unsteady movements.

Perhaps there was hope yet for his childe.

"Yes," she grinned. She was trembling slightly,

"Excuse me everyone," the man licked his lips nervously.

Ava turned around curiously, along with Eric and Godric.

"If I could have your attention." He seemed to be steeling himself for something. "My name is Luke McDonald. I'm a member of the Fellowship of the Sun. And I have a message for you all from Reverend Steve –" he was unzipping his jacket as he spoke.

Her hands were moving as he finished. It wouldn't hold for more than a millisecond, she knew, but hopefully…

Eric was moving too, shifting his body to shield Ava's.

The blast stopped mid-air for a second, ample time for the vampires to scatter, and then…

BOOM.

It shook the very foundations of Godric's home. Ava opened her eyes tentatively, Eric's heavy weight reassuringly uncomfortable on top of her. She was alive.

"Eric? Eric?" she nudged him as she squirmed out from underneath.

"Ava," he said weakly.

"Why aren't you healing yourself?" she said frantically, her hands gingerly pressing against his wounds.

"Can't. Silver," he croaked. "Suck it out."

She froze. "Stop being an ass and get up," she rolled her eyes, swatting his shoulder. "I know you're faking."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because if you were _really_ hurt, there's no way you'd admit it. You'd get up and collapse in some hidden corner of a room. You've got too much of an ego to do otherwise."

"Interesting hypothesis," he said, sitting up, all pretense gone. "What if you'd been wrong?"

"Godric's about a foot behind us, I'm sure he would've fixed you right up. 'Sides, worst comes to worst, I've got plenty of blood," she said reasonably.

"And if I'd really needed you to suck out the silver?"

"First of all, I don't know how on earth your mind comes up with these ridiculous ideas. And second, I've got a penknife in my pocket."

"You'd slice me open?"

"Don't be a baby. You bite people all the time and you'd heal in minutes. Now, shouldn't you be dealing with this chaos?" she gestured to the swarm of buzzing vampires around them.

"Not my area," he said, watching her carefully, a faint pout marring his exquisite features.

"Oh, will you give it up?" she groaned. "Yes, I'd freakin' suck silver out of your chest, even if it is one of the stupidest things I've ever heard of, if you _really_ needed it. Are you happy now?"

"Ecstatic," he drawled. There was the barest crinkle at the corners of his ice-blue eyes.

"Great. Can we do whatever it is that needs to be done so we can leave? I really really don't like having dead people guts on me."

"And your adrenaline rush is about to end," he observed, noting the unnatural flush across her cheeks and the way her body shook ever-so-slightly.

"That too," she admitted grudgingly.

A/N: Read and review, please? :D :D Reader love is what keeps us writers scrawling/typing away! :D :D


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: A little gift to my lovely reviewers who totally made my day yesterday :D Thanks 3! It's a shortie, but I'm working on the next two chapters, which'll hopefully be up by Friday (or earlier, if I get enough incentive *wink wink*)

Ava let out a small gasp as she felt rather than saw Eric sit down beside her, the slight depression of the leather couch cushion drawing her closer to him.

"You should be sleeping."

She gave her heart a moment to recover before she spoke. "Sorry, is the TV too loud? I didn't mean to wake you. Or,"' she paused as she watched a beautiful, barely clad woman drift out of his room, two distinct puncture holes livid against the white of her throat. The woman shot a wistful glance at Eric (Ava scowled before she could stop herself, not that the other girl noticed in her post-whatever haze) but seemed to know better than to address him without his initiation of conversation. She lingered for a moment by the suite door, a hopeful smile firmly in place before she sighed and reluctantly opened the door, her movements deliberately slow. The door swung closed behind her and Ava warred against the urge to pad over to the door and peer through the peephole to confirm her suspicions that the woman would still be standing there, expectant smile on her face.

She shook her head and glanced back at Eric, who she swore was grinning in a distinctly Cheshire cat fashion on the inside. "Um," she coughed, "disturb whatever that was," she gestured.

"You look terrible," he observed, ignoring her comment - which, she thought to herself, was pretty much what she had done.

"Nice," she frowned and muttered bitingly to herself, "so sorry we can't all look like her."

Wisely, Eric opted to disregard that comment. His fingers suddenly found their way to her chin and his grip tightened as she instinctively jerked, holding her face in place before he tilted it up to stare more intently down at her. "When was the last time you slept?" he asked softly.

For a moment, she almost believed he cared. And then she remembered the model-esque girl that had all but floated out of here. She wrenched out of his grasp. "You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself," she snapped.

"How long?" he insisted.

"I get enough, okay?" she crossed her arms protectively.

"No." He lunged toward her, stopping just millimeters from her face before he murmured warningly, "That is neither a sufficient answer nor an appropriate tone. I will not tolerate disrespect from a human."

She swallowed hard, "Sorry?" It came out wrong, neither the acerbic nor sarcastic tone she had aimed for, but weak and uncertain and apologetic.

He lifted an eyebrow, "Now let's try this again. When was this the last time you slept?"

"Um. I don't know," she shrugged.

"Try harder."

"I said I don't know," she said truculently.

"Ava."

"Probably that first day after..." she looked away.

"After?"

"After I got to Shreveport. Okay?"

"That long?" he said, surprise causing him to temporarily drop his normally careless expression.

She nodded jerkily.

He looked grave for a moment, before he swept her up into his arms. Squealing at the suddenness, she slapped his arm. "Could you give a girl some warning?" she snapped.

"Where would the fun be in that?" he chuckled.

"Lovely. Where are we going?"

"To my room."

A/N: Read and review please! :D :D


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Wow….over a thousand hits in one day!!! And we're almost at 100 reviews!!! You guys are fantastic *hugs* I love reading all the comments you guys leave, so I decided to make this chapter extra long as a thank you to the best readers _ever_ :D. Hope you guys enjoy!

Oh, and in celebration I've decided that reviewer #100 and two other reviewers will get the next chapter early. (It can't be anonymous, obviously, or else there's nowhere for me to send it ;D ) Thanks for all your support!

__

"To my room," he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm going to make sure you sleep tonight."

"Wait! I don't want to sleep there," the words rushed out of her mouth. She bit her lip nervously as he stared askance at her. "I- I don't want to. Where you just – you _know_."

"Where I what?" he said impatiently.

"She just walked out of here!" Ava exclaimed hotly. "I don't wanna sleep where you just screwed and/or ate."

Cocking his head in thought, he stared down at her before wordlessly turning toward her room.

He placed her into her bed before settling down beside her, arm wrapped protectively around her waist. Ava laid her head against his still heart and wondered just what the fuck she was doing.

"I fed on her," he said, his voice almost inaudible. He didn't know why he was saying these words. Why he was telling her these things, except that he – that he felt that he should, that he had to.

"I know," she said tightly.

"That is it."

She lifted her head, warm brown eyes meeting softening ice-blue as she gauged his words. He met her gaze steadily and she smiled softly before lying back down and snuggling further into his hold. His hand found its way to her head and, for the first time, she felt safe.

--

Eric hated being touched. Disliked anyone placing their hands on him, and disliked touching others – with the sole exception being when he was feeding. He liked feeling bodies cool and hearts slow; that intrinsic struggle for survival that all humans had built in. It reassured his hunter-Viking side in this age of synthetic blood and willing donors.

He barely tolerated Pam's touch, and Godric's as well, and both had learned quickly to keep their physical distance. Not that they were particularly touchy people.

But for some reason he found himself seeking hers. He found himself wanting to feel her warmth beneath his cold, to watch his fingers dance across the porcelain creaminess of her skin, to see her coil instinctively into his embrace….and now he had his entire body pressed against hers, her curling into him. The first night, when he had slipped into bed with her, he had considered himself pragmatic and ignored the unsettling feeling of enjoyment he got from her skin. But tonight, tonight he could not fool himself any longer.

For the first time in a thousand years, he felt something other than repulsion, than apathy, than the blandness he had lived his life by.

For the first time, he felt.

And it – it didn't bother him as much as he had expected.

She snuffled – an odd, peculiarly endearing human noise – as she squirmed toward him. A slight shiver ran down her spine and he carefully covered her with the blanket she had kicked off awhile ago. He ran his hand through her hair, and smiled at seeing her smile sleepily before pressing a kiss against her forehead.

Eric slid his arm around her slight frame. He frowned at that, she seemed far too thin for it to be healthy. He stretched his mind and wondered at when she had eaten in the past few days. There had been so many other matters to concern himself with, he had never given her food a thought. He was sure she had eaten, he knew humans could not survive long without food, but it bothered him that he did not know for sure – had not seen her eat.

He would be more attentive in the future, he promised.

The sweet scent of her filled his nostrils, and he inhaled deeply once more before closing his eyes.

__

Even before Ava opened her eyes the next day, she could feel a giddy smile blossoming across her face. She couldn't even remember the last time she had slept so well, much less in the arms of a gorgeous thousand year old vampire. Speaking of which...

She twisted, eager to catch a glimpse of Eric asleep and...

Shrieked in surprise at seeing his baby-blue eyes watching her amusedly.

"Jesus," she cursed. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" she snapped irritatedly, a small pout making its way across her face, over his light chuckles.

He pulled himself - and her - up into a seating position, letting his back rest comfortable against the headboard. Interlinking his fingers behind his head, he shrugged carelessly. She rolled her eyes exasperatedly at him and - before her cowardice could kick in - sidled over and leaned against him. One arm came down and wrapped itself around her shoulders, his fingers idly toying with her hair, and she felt that goofy grin threatening to burst across her lips.

"What time is it?" she murmured drowsily.

"Midnight."

"What?!" Her eyes widened and she crawled over his lap to peer at the clock sitting on the nightstand. "You let me sleep a WHOLE day?!"

"You needed it."

Well, she thought slowly, rather hard to argue with that.

Sighing, she unconsciously ran a hand through her hair and grimaced at its vaguely oily texture. She slipped out of bed, feet hitting the floor with soft thump.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom," she threw over her shoulder. He nodded and watched curiously as she half-strode, half-slid across the redwood floor. Eric was more pleased than he cared to admit that the large white shirt that flowed to just past her hips was his and silently thought to himself that he much preferred it on her.

Ava was in the midst of brushing her teeth when a thought suddenly occurred to her, "Wait, how long have you been awake?" she asked around the toothbrush in her mouth, her face appearing in the doorway between the two rooms.

"Since sunset."

She blinked. "So you just sat there and watched me sleep for _four_ hours?" she squeaked, coloring as she hoped against hope that she hadn't said anything in her sleep.

He smirked to himself, rather enjoying the charming blush that was spreading across her cheeks. "Well, you do say the most interesting things," he said, lifting an eyebrow.

Damn, she swore softly. "What'd I say?" she said with a wince.

"I don't believe I'm going to tell you," he said, teasing blue eyes sparkling like the Caribbean waters she had seen once upon a time. She was so entranced by this never-before-seen liveliness that for a moment she didn't process what he'd said. It wasn't until he rose that she cottoned onto his words.

"What?! I have a right to know," she demanded. She rushed back to the sink, tossed her toothbrush to the side, and spat quickly before clambering after him and into the living room.

"Really."

"Yes!"

"Hmmmm," he paused mid-step and she slammed into him as he turned to face her. He bent down, his face millimeters away from hers, and she felt her breathing hitch. "I think not," he said silkily. It took her addled brain several beats of her thumping heart to understand, by which time he was halfway across the room.

"What?!" she pouted, arms crossing. "Meanie."

He raised an eyebrow in response and she frowned before sticking her tongue out and blowing him a raspberry. He was in front of her before she could blink, and she jerked back in surprise.

"Now that's not very nice," he said huskily.

"Maybe I'm not very nice," she murmured, taking an impetuous step forward that closed the space between them.

His fangs clicked into place, and she could see him withdrawing in his eyes. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she said gently, "They don't scare me."

"I should," he said roughly.

"You don't," she whispered, her fingers brushing across his lips and hesitating as they moved - almost of their own accord - to touch his fangs. He stilled in acquiescence, and she stroked a finger over the tips.

"Ow." They were far sharper than she had imagined and she moved to put her pricked finger in her mouth. His hand shot out to stop her and, with deliberate slowness, he returned her finger to his lips.

Eric paused, eyes holding hers until she nodded slowly, before pressing a soft kiss against her finger. His tongue flicked to capture that single drop of spilled blood and she shivered at the sensation of his feather-light touch. She watched, captivated, as his eyes closed and a serene expression settled across his brow. He savored the taste of her, running over its rich complexities and subtle tones as a connoisseur does.

His eyes snapped open and he pulled her close to him, his fangs firmly retracted, before crushing his lips to hers. He kissed her hard and demandingly, wanting to taste her with as much desire as he craved her blood. All of that suppressed want burst forth as he drew her as close as physically possible. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think that it was wrong to kiss one as innocent as her like this; that their first kiss should be soft and romantic and filled with gentle seduction and beauty the way she was. He knew that, but he could not staunch what he felt, and so he molded himself ever closer and demanded entrance to taste the sweet forbiddenness of her mouth.

She faltered at first, before she was pushing herself into him; before her lips ran insistently over his and her tongue demanded all of him. He was surprised... And aroused by her force and before he could gather himself enough to prevent it, his fangs had snapped down, but she did not back away as he expected and instead ran her tongue along she sharp points, offering him her blood- willingly and freely. Its succulent richness ran into his mouth with her kisses.

He broke the kiss abruptly, leaving her dazed and confused. Their eyes met and she tilted her head questioningly, her fingers running unconsciously along her bruised and bloody lips.

He had done that to her.

And god knows what he would have done in another minute... How far he would have pushed… or taken. As it was he was having trouble tearing his eyes away from her rapidly pulsing jugular.

He couldn't do that to her, wouldn't let himself.

"Get ready," he commanded gruffly, "Godric wants to see us."

And then he was gone, his bedroom door shutting with an echoing click behind him

__

Ava was irritated.

No, scratch that, she was _pissed_.

She had been irritated (confused first) and disgruntled when he had stepped away from her in the heated haze he had induced. But, it ratcheted up to _pissed as fuck _when he had barely glanced at her before they had left, when he had remained 3 carefully metered steps in front of her – slipping just out of grasp and speaking range every time she shuffled to bridge the distance – and now? Now that they were standing ungainly silent and peculiarly positioned in Godric's living room?

She was so furious she was a heartbeat away from whipping toward him and taking a fist across his face – however completely pointless and ineffectual it might be. It'd make her feel better.

She was furious at him for this awkward predicament he had created and perpetuated. Furious at him for kissing her the way she had always wanted – needed – to be kissed; for making her feel more alive and safer than she had ever known; for making her forget the world in that instant; for making her his, forever, with that one burning kiss. She had felt it the second his lips finally met hers, had known in that first touch, that no one else would ever do, no one else would ever make her feel the way he did with one passing glance. And she hated him for it, for making her love him without giving her the slightest hint of his feelings in return. How could he kiss her like that, and then walk away? As if nothing had happened, as if he had felt nothing.

What if he had felt nothing?

She hadn't meant to cut her tongue and share her blood; it had just felt _right_ in that moment. Felt natural, and she had never been one to ignore her natural predilections. Was it the blood that had driven him away?

Was it her?

Gargh, she hated him and more than that, she hated herself for turning her into this sniveling, pathetic person who ruminated endlessly about a _boy_.

Turning her head toward Eric, she shot him an infuriated glare – which he pointedly ignored – before pushing him (and all the stupid thoughts she had about him) out of her mind.

Hopefully…it'd last.

__

Something had changed, Godric noticed as the pair walked through the doors. He could feel it, in his bond with each, in the stances each unknowingly held. Eric was trying to hide whatever he was feeling from shimmering through their bond as maker and childe, and though Godric could have forced the issue and found those lurking sentiments, he decided that passive observation would do for now. He'd interfere only if needed.

The two off them stood awkwardly by each other. Ava would glance over at Eric uncertainly, chew her lip, and then glare fiercely before looking away. Eric, for his part, adamantly avoided looking at her, standing just a few inches further away than natural. But his body remained slightly angled towards her. Clearly, whatever had happened was borne of Eric and his often ridiculous notions of... God knows what.

There were a few terse seconds of silence, and Godric idly wondered if his musings had so distracted him that he had not heard their words of greeting.

"Hiya Godric," Ava smiled.

Ah, apparently not. Hmmm, perhaps some interference would not go awry.

"Hello Ava. Eric, if you could excuse us for a moment?"

__

Eric stalked agitatedly around the room he'd been exiled into. In a way, he was glad Godric had granted him this reprieve from her presence, a few moments away from her and all the troubling things she made him feel.

He didn't like feeling, he decided. It made the world messy and uncomfortable.

No, he needed the space to clear his mind, to restore that delicate balance of impassive, indifference that he couldn't seem to maintain around her.

There was no doubt that she was peeved with him, he'd have to be an idiot not to have noticed it – even without the bond, which he wondered idly if she knew about; if she knew that her every pique of anger bit across them and prodded harshly at him. Her fury was blatant and easy to see and so unlike the way of the vampires. There were never any pretenses, any facades that he could discern with her. She was angry, and a small part of him reveled in her open anger.

He adored her furious, the way she was now. The way her eyes would flash severely, her entire person inflamed and her body suddenly all sharp edges. And those funny facial contortions she'd slip into when words failed her, the raspberries and...he enjoyed just waiting and pushing to see what curious thing she'd do next. He could never anticipate her.

Just an hour ago, he knew he had hurt her and angered her with his abruptness and avoidance. He had expected her to yell, to hit or otherwise make her anger known. He had _not_ expected her to withdraw. In the hallway, on the trip down to Godric's room, he had been careful to maintain his distance when she had suddenly sped up – not to catch up with, as he had expected – and overtaken him, her hair flouncing behind her and hips swaying in an unconsciously provocative way.

Her hips.

Jeans were one of the more ingenious inventions of this time, he smirked to himself. That and cell phones, but, he digressed.

Eric didn't know why they had captivated him so. There was no perfection to her face or form, but it that which drew him. _She_ enchanted him.

And he was dange-

His ears perked. Godric was recalling him into the room.

He was there in an instant, and –

He stopped in the doorway, his eyes flashing and heart uncertain.

Ava, _his Ava_, was in Godric's lap.

A/N: I know, I know…cliffy, I'm evil :P Read and review? Please? :D


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Awwwww you guys are so sweet! 22 reviews!! :D :D here's the next chapter, and it's another long one (hehe, quite proud of myself for that, although I don't think the next chapter will be quite as long…but, we'll see.)

--

The scene before him was bewildering. His maker and his – and Ava. She was curled up in his lap, face tucked into Godric's chest, and his fists clenched by his side. He didn't like seeing her touching someone else, being so close to another person. He didn't like it one bit.

"Come here," Godric ordered, his words darting fast and quiet out of his mouth. Too fast to disturb her, almost too fast for Eric to catch. Almost.

He went to him, because he could not deny his maker's command. It was as he neared that he realized she was crying. Soft sobs that shook her frame and she steadfastly kept her head buried. She hadn't noticed him yet, he knew, because human reflexes couldn't have caught his silent trek.

"Grace," Godric explained, understanding without words the questions that Eric felt brimming in his head. "She needs yo-"

Eric shook his head. He couldn't – she, he … he couldn't be what she needed. He wasn't, it wasn't in him. He turned around, Godric's remonstrations ringing in his ears, but he couldn't stop and he couldn't turn around and do what he wanted to do. He couldn't take her into arms and whisper gentle reassurances, he couldn't promise to care for her when he wasn't sure he knew what caring meant; he couldn't hold her and kiss her and... She needed more than he could be.

So he left.

He left before she saw him, her head lifting as the door shut behind him. He left before he could change his mind.

He left.

__

There were a lot of things Ava didn't know. She didn't know why the sky was blue or the earth was round; she didn't know why Eric could be so sweet one minute and cruel the next; and she definitely didn't know what she had done to make him turn head and bolt from her, why he was hot and then cold.

But she knew one thing.

_She_ needed to face him and figure this damned thing out. Hopefullywith him. But one way or another, she was gonna figure out where she stood. And Godric had given her a chance to do so, although, she quite seriously considered turning 'round and running because she wasn't this brave, wasn't this strong, but she had to be because she …she'd never forgive herself if she didn't.

The door to their suite stood before her, and she stared at it. She willed herself to open the door, and her hand slowly raised to the curved handle, but she couldn't slide the keycard in and open it.

_Come on_, _go in. You _have_ to tell him about the meeting with Flanagan. You promised Godric you would. _Come on. T_his is your chance, you big chicken. Make him talk to you. He can't just kiss you and then walk away like nothing happened. GO._

She exhaled.

The door opened, and she stepped haltingly through it. Another breath, and she gathered herself before striding purposefully toward his shut door. She walked with all the confidence she didn't feel, and knocked steadily.

"What?" came his gruff response.

She pushed open the door and froze, her eyes widening. His blue eyes met hers, and they were so cold that she wondered stupidly for a second if that was why she couldn't move her feet and run. If they were somehow responsible for this icy feeling she felt seeping into her bones and creeping down her arms until she'd swear she was covered with ice, frozen within it.

Her mouth opened and closed twice before she finally choked out, "Nan Flanagan is here."

And then she turned around and fled as if the demons of hell itself were after her.

__

The sun beat down, hot and heavy in its mid-afternoon glory, when Ava stumbled into a shady looking bar. Hopefully this one would be less scrupulous than the last.

Damn that bartender for cutting her off. She was still too sober and that was the last thing she should be right now. Right now she should be dead on her feet, slumped in a probably never-before-washed corner of some dingy bar with a shot of tequila in her hand. She should be numb and fuzzy and unable to recall her name and definitely unable to remember Eric and the way his hands and lips felt on hers…

Eric…Eric naked with a naked girl on his lap. Eric with his hands on that girl's breasts and mouth red with her blood. Eric fucki-

See. She was too sober. No one should have to remember those things. She should be drunk and drinking away all her blue-eyed devils and memories and…

The bartender glanced at her.

"Tequila," she said, resting her head on the bar. "And keep it coming." She slammed a hundred dollar bill onto the table when he hesitated. There was a nod, which she didn't see, and he pocketed it as he lined and poured three shots.

The first burned its way down her throat, warming her from the inside out. A bowl of lime slices appeared at her elbow, but she ignored it. She liked the bite of tequila, liked the way it made her chest hurt in a way that forced all the other thoughts and pains out, liked the heady way it made everything disappear.

She was glad Eric had forced her take that five hundred dollars the first day. "You might need it," he had said. "You should always have some cash on you." She hadn't wanted to, didn't like taking money that wasn't hers, but he hadn't relented, and she had promised herself she'd find a way to slip it back to him when they got back to Shreveport.

Now she was glad. It kept the drinks coming, and there was something hilarious about using his money to forget him.

"What happened?" the bartender asked, rubbing a glass clean. _Why were they always cleaning glasses_, she thought suddenly.

"Because otherwise we'd just be twiddling our thumbs when we asked way too personal questions. Makes us easier to talk to this way," he answered. She blinked at him and then down at the three empty shot glasses. She didn't remember drinking them, but she could feel them buzzing through her head. She didn't intend to ask that question out loud either...She shrugged negligently.

He poured her another, mistaking the glance as a command for more. Not that she minded, she thought to herself as she tossed it back, no longer wincing at the afterbite.

"Well, whoever he is, he doesn't deserve you," the bartender, Dave – she read, squinting at the nametag, said. She chuckled sloppily as she took in the rest of it. "_Dave, aka GOD to those lookin' for a drink."_

"What?" she blinked again, suddenly finding the world a much fuzzier place.

"You keep saying Eric."

"Oh," she said, reaching for another shot. She paused, and considered the many now-empty glasses. One, two, three, four, five…she stopped counting. She couldn't count as high as glasses. Or. There were more glasses than numbers. Wait. That was wrong too.

Huh, she must be drinking slower than she thought. Anything over six shots normally left her unconscious…

"What," she squeezed an eye shut. She knew the word. Um… "What thyme, no…time! What time is it?"

"Six."

"Huh," she swallowed another shot.

"You should probably stop," the bartender advised, marveling that her slight frame was still _on _the stool after twelve shots, even if they had been spread out over almost three hours.

She grumbled, and another hundred found its way to the bar. "Not yyet. More drunk," she said, stumbling over the words.

"Okay," he shook his head as he reached behind the bar for another bottle of Cuervo.

__

Ava giggled softly to herself as she tripped out of her newly found friend's car. Dan honked, and she whirled, a finger on her lips. "SHHhh," she said unevenly, frowning for a moment before a fit of laughter overtook her. "He'll….shhhhhh, Eric'll _hear_ you."

"You sure you'll be okay?" Dave said, leaning toward the passenger window as the car slowly rolled alongside her. He eyed the vampire hotel uneasily. "Are you _sure_ this is the right place?" he repeated doubtfully.

She nodded vigorously, the setting sun catching in the natural highlights of her hair. "I'll – " she hiccupped. "I'm fine! Thanks for driv-" she frowned, wrinkling her nose. "Dri_-driving _me back."

"I don't mind," he shrugged, a soft smile on his lips.

A doorman pulled open the glass door, a patient, vaguely bored expression on his face. Ava giggled again. "I think Eric heard us," she whispered conspiratorially, before giggling again. She sobered suddenly, eyes wide, "You should probably go. Eric'll be mad."

Dan's eyebrows knitted together in concern, "Are you sure you'll be okay? You can stay at my place…"

"'Course I'll be okay. But you're sweet," she giggled again. "I should go," she waved as she lurched slowly toward the door. "Bye!"

"Bye," he replied, unable to shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach_. He'd check on her tomorrow, make sure she hadn't been eaten or something_, he promised himself and watched until the doorman swung the door closed and she had disappeared into the dark hotel before driving away.

--

Eric appeared just as Ava was about to plunge headfirst to the ground, almost dragging the bellboy who had volunteered to help her back down with her. His strong arms caught her around the waist.

"Where the hell have you been," he growled. A head jerk and the bellboy scampered.

"Eric!" she cheered happily, her face brightening.

"You're drunk," he snapped as he lifted her into his arms.

"Only a little," she giggled. "Eric. Eric. Eric."

"Yes?"

"You're name's fun to say. Eric. Eric. Er-" she pouted as he put his hand over her mouth and balanced her weight easily in his left arm. He tentatively moved his hand away.

"Er-"

And replaced it.

The softness of her lips on his skin was already driving him to distraction. And then she blinked up at him, brown eyes in full puppy-dog mode.

"Don't even try it," he warned, nudging open the suite door with his shoulder, and looked away knowing full well that he couldn't resist her for very long.

She frowned, "Bbuhrugjeerj….ERbhb!" Growling softly when he continued to ignore her, she sighed. Her eyes brightened suddenly as an idea struck her.

"Ava!" he pulled his hand away and stared incredulously down at her. "Did you just _lick_ me?"

"Maybe," she giggled madly.

"Humans," he shook his head.

"Eric?"

"Yes?" he sighed.

"I want a kiss."

"I thought you were angry with me," he deferred, mentally damning that faint wisp of chivalry that prevented him from doing exactly as she asked. He paused, considering where to take her. She'd be upset in the morning if she woke up in his room, but he didn't want to leave her unattended in her room – she was too drunk for that to be an even vague possibility (and, though he resisted outright acknowledging this to himself, he knew that he would worry) and he doubted she'd be receptive to waking up with him in her bed... That left…the living room couch.

"I am!" she nodded, "But I still want a kiss," she frowned.

The couch it was, he decided.

"Eric!" she said plaintively.

"What?" he laid her down on the couch, propping her upright with several pillows. She grasped hold of his hand and tugged.

"I want a kiss!"

"No, you don't," he sighed. "You're upset with me, and you'll be upset with me in the morning if I kiss you."

"No, I won't," she insisted, lip jutting out.

Eric's eye caught the movement, and it took him several moments to regain his chivalry.

"_Yes_, you will."

"No, I won't! Will you sit?" she said irritatedly. "You're making my neck hurt."

He rolled his eyes but seated himself on the coffee table in front of her.

"Sit next to me!"

"You're very demanding." There wasn't any reason _not_ to sit beside her, he thought reasonably as his body moved of its own will toward her. He strode toward the cushion where her feet rested, but she shook her head and gestured toward the spot right beside her. He was sitting down before his mind could formulate a reason not to, and she snuggled into the crook of his arm as she pulled his hand around her.

"I know!" she giggled contentedly.

"Happy?" he drawled.

"Yup," she mumbled.

"Good," he whispered.

"What'd you say?" she mumbled.

"I didn't say anything," he said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Oh." There was a pause. "Eric?"

"Yes?"

"Why won't you kiss me? Why did you stop kissing me?" she asked softly. "Am I not-," she licked her lips and his eyes followed the alluring action. "Are you not attracted to me?" she said hurriedly.

Eric stiffened, bothered by her words. She was staring determinedly at a stray thread on the pillow, and she plucked uncomfortably at it. How could she think that she was unattractive? He didn't know what made him give form to the words, but he knew that he couldn't let her go on thinking such blatantly untrue things, couldn't let her go on hurting. _When did he start caring?_ he wondered to himself. "I'll hurt you."

"You did hurt me," she said, moving out of his grasp so she could meet his eyes. Her inebriation made her painfully forthright, and she continued, "When you kissed me and left. When you fucked that girl, knowing I'd walk in, letting me walk in. You _hurt_ me. And maybe I'm an idiot," she wiped a hand brusquely across her eyes, "I'm such an idiot, but I don't care. I'll forgive you for it all because I _like_ you, Eric. I like _you_."

"I-"

She pressed her small palm against his mouth as she straddled his hips, shocking both herself and him. "If you like me, if you have _any_ romantic feelings toward me, you'll kiss me. Explain later. Just kiss me. Please." Withdrawing her hand, she watched him anxiously as he stared at her. Eric couldn't be self-sacrificing anymore. It wasn't in his nature, and it wasn't working for him or her. He was Eric. A selfish, self-absorbed bastard who didn't care. Only he did care. He cared about her, almost more than he cared about himself. He wanted her. He _needed_ her.

His hands were in her hair, drawing her to him, before she could take another breath. His eyes held hers as he pressed is forehead against hers, asking her if she was sure. She nodded.

And then he was kissing her, softly, gently, resolutely showing everything he couldn't say.

A/N: Review? Please? And lemme know what you guys think :D


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Sorry peeps about the late posting! :( I just wasn't sure –still aren't sure – I liked the way this chapter flowed…but, tell me what you guys think.

Godric stared out at the Dallas skyline. It wasn't the most magnificent horizon, and certainly not what most would have chosen their last sight to be. He had considered Paris, Prague, Venice…all the European cities he had lived and loved, but had resisted the impulse to return there for the end. It seemed…_self-indulgent_.

No, Dallas fit him. Him and his end.

Europe had been his past, it was the place where his life and nightmare had begun, and represented to him the height of his hedonism. He could not return to that place, and circle of life be damned that he should leave this life where he had left his mortality and morality and humanity. (It was only writers, anyway, who would find some sort of grand literary poeticism to having life – death – rebirth – death all circulate around one place. He wasn't having any of that.)

He watched the still city below him for another moment before he shut his eyes to the world he had existed within for too long. A gentle wind ruffled his hair, a soothing caress from above, he wanted to believe.

Wanted to, but couldn't. He could recall with frightening detail every grotesque act he had committed in the pursuit of amusement – survival, he had called it then. No, there could be no all-seeing-god sending out reassurances to _him_.

The ice white of his skin tingled and he let himself anticipate the warmth that would soon settle upon it, the first kiss of sunlight in two millennia. He could no longer remember what the sun's gentle rays felt like and he looked forward to their reintroduction and reconciliation.

His mind drifted as he waited patiently for his salvation – freedom – and it went immediately to his childe. Eric. He was glad to see him settled before he departed and only hoped that his bull-headedness would not too greatly disrupt/destroy the peace and love he had found with Ava. Godric had needed that final assurance that his childe would be alright, would not be alone for all eternity (as he had been), and Godric had quite willingly put off his plans to ensure that the two re-found each other.

A soft smile slid across his face as he recollected the scenes of yesterday. (Godric gathered and hoarded moments such as those, drawing them deep into himself and preserving them in a vault hidden in the recesses of his mind for days when he needed reminders that there was more to life than an unending circle of feeding and death and power-struggles and money. He supposed he no longer needed to do so, but giving up a habit which had been ingrained over so many years….)

He had known Eric had done wrong when he appeared minus one human to the meeting with Flanagan. Godric had, to be entirely honest, expected something along those lines after Eric's swift flight that morning. Emotions had never been Eric's strong point and to be confronted with his own _and_ Ava's? That was perhaps asking too much from him, but Godric had hoped that Eric could finally grow beyond that and embrace the empathy and love he knew Eric possessed in spades. Later, after the meeting had closed, Eric and he had returned to Eric's room – Godric all but dragging Eric by the figurative ear – so that the matter between Eric and Ava might finally be resolved. It was then that they had discovered her disappearance, the causative events of which had rapidly spilled from Eric's lips after a few disapproving headshakes on his part.

Godric still couldn't believe Eric had been so spiteful. Actually, he could, but he had never dreamed that he would turn the full force of his callousness upon _her_. In hindsight, he should not – perhaps – have forced Eric into an open confrontation with his feelings.

Eric had wanted to chase after her, a credit to his slowly developing humanity, but Godric had quickly culled that notion – pointing out the rising sun that had seemingly escaped his notice. Cross words had followed and Godric had known, with absolute certainty then, that Eric loved her.

Love.

Godric beamed widely at that. Yes, Eric would be fine. He had done what even Godric could not: fallen in love.

After Godric had found the two of them wrapped peacefully asleep in each other's arms earlier this night, he had known he could leave this world in peace. The door to the roof opened and Godric recognized, without turning, the firm steps of his childe.

"Return to her," Godric said quietly, eyes still closed to the world.

"Only if you return with me," Eric countered, the slight reemergence of his Northlandic lilt belying the steadiness of his words.

"You know I cannot," Godric replied, eyes opening.

"Yes. Yes, you can. You can do anything."

Godric smiled sadly at that and turned slowly to face his childe. His child who had never lost his awe and faith and belief for him, however unwarranted it all was.

"I will not."

"Then I will make you," Eric declared, stepping determinedly toward him.

"Even if you could, why would you be so cruel?" Godric asked softly.

"I cannot lose you," Eric said, falling to his knee, head bowed.

"You do not have a choice."

"Then…I will stay with you," Eric promised, desperation filling his voice and he turned his blood-stained eyes up to meet Godric's calm ones.

"You cannot leave her."

"I cannot leave you."

"You will," his hand reached out to rest upon Eric's head. "You will, as your maker I command it."

He could not fight this, and it showed upon his normally stoic face. He reluctantly found his way back to his feet and to the door, but he paused there.

"Please." The word burst from Eric's throat, low and guttural.

"Goodbye Eric," Godric turned away, his eyes returning to the slowly brightening horizon.

--

There was a creak. Godric turned, face weary and expectant. "Eric…."

"Not quite," Ava smiled sadly.

"You should not be here," he said, moving back to look out at the world beneath them and watch as the faintest tinge of tomorrow appeared along the horizon.

"Neither should you," she said, shuffling to stand beside him on the ledge. She took his hand in hers and his fingers closed around the silent comfort she offered. Together, they watched the rosy tint spread across the sky. "There is no deliverance," she said, breaking the quiet that had formed. "There is no escape in death."

It was a gently delivered warning, harder to shake for its calm.

"There is only death. Death and life."

Godric gazed over at her and she pivoted to face him. There was no condemnation in her clear eyes, nothing but open honesty and he could find no words to counter hers.

The soft hues of dawn framed her face. "You jump, I jump Jack," she smiled and – before he could unravel her strange words, she was unwinding their hands and leaning backwards with her arms spread out to greet the world as he had meant to greet the sun.

And then she was free falling.

A/N: Read and review?? Pretty please? :D


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Awwww, your reviews are always so sweet! I'm so thankful to all of my lovely reviewers for all your support and feedback. HAPPY THANKSGIVING! Hope you enjoy this chapter :D.

Godric lunged after her, catapulting off the roof in pursuit. There was a sigh of relief when his arms encircled her, but she didn't even flutter her eyes open when it happened. Later, he would wonder at that – wonder if she had so expected him to save her, so anticipated her own protracted immortality that she could not even think otherwise. Or, and he feared this thought, if she hadn't cared.

But there was no time for such ponderings now, and he was busy twisting himself mid-air to bear the brunt of the rapidly-approaching impact, the sun blistering against his exposed skin.

They hit the ground abruptly and Godric did not pause as he rushed them into the dark safety of the lobby. He was running up the stairs, his firm hold trying to minimize jostling and harming her further, and he would not let himself look down at her until they reached the safety of Eric's rooms. He was calling Eric in his mind, drawing him to the door, as he tried not feel her heart slowing. He ran faster, nonetheless, his feet no longer making contact with the ground.

Eric was opening the door, and he passed her carefully to him.

It was not until Eric was feeding her that Godric allowed himself pause to survey her. She looked a broken doll, arms lolling and body limply motionless. He had not been able to cushion her significantly – a twenty plus-story fall into a vampire was not much better than one into the ground – and he was sharply reminded of human frailty as he watched her struggle to return.

Eric's blood was bringing her back from the edge of death…as she had brought him back.

Godric understood then her actions, but understanding did not temper his anger at having his hand forced.

She was stirring, and there was no tenderness to his words when he snapped, "You stupid, stupid girl."

"It worked," she said, eyes still closed. Eric sat uncertainly between the two. He did not know what had transpired only that now was not the time to inquire. He felt the icy grasp of fear receding from his heart with every word she spoke, and he calmed as she firmly settled on the side of the living.

"You cannot force people to do what you wish, "Godric continued irately. And Eric stared, unable to remember ever seeing Godric's voice raise so severely. He instinctively moved to shield her from Godric's ire but she was sitting up and staring unashamedly and unflinchingly back at Godric.

"I didn't _force_ you to do anything."

"I could not let you die," Godric snapped.

"Neither could I," she said calmly.

He stopped, his anger draining from him. There was a sharp exhale before he strode toward the door and said quietly, back toward her, "I will not save you again."

"I will."

He shook his head and there was a soft click as the door slid shut. She let him go, trusting he would not try again tonight.

--

"Are you okay?" Eric asked, his voice eerily calm as he sat down beside her, arm finding its way around her shoulders. She nodded as she leaned into him. "What happened?"

She winced. Irrationally, perhaps, she had hoped that he would leave it at that. "Promise you won't get mad?" she tried cajolingly.

"No."

"Eric!"

"Ava, enough. What happened?" There was a steely edge to his words, and she sighed, knowing she could not postpone this any longer.

"Okay, but let me preface this with I'm okay, Godric's alive, so clearly my plan worked and there's really no reason to be angry," she said hurriedly. His face grew stormy, and she bit her lip nervously. "I saw you leaving tonight and I – I followed you," she admitted reluctantly.

_Something shifted beside her, and she blinked slowly, struggling to wake up. Eric's voice whispered reassuringly in her ear, "Ssh, I'll be back in a little bit." She nodded, and closed her eyes hazily. _

_The door had clicked shut, and she had dozed a moment or so, before panic set her limbs into motion. She didn't know what had driven her to do it, but she found herself clambering after him, sock-clad feet padding quietly a few feet behind him. There had just been this feeling – some vague unease married with an unsettling feeling of gloom – but she had known it couldn't be ignored. That, and there might have been the slightest crazy thought that he was disappearing to do another girl. She knew it was ridiculous, and she hated herself for thinking of it, but it was a thought she just couldn't seem to quash. _

_He hadn't noticed her presence, so wrapped up in whatever thought he was chewing over, and she had been surprised. They were nearing the end of the hallway (her leaping into alcoves and doorways and against walls in a distinctly mission-impossible-on-crack fashion) when his movements became vampire-fast and she had scurried after him, just in time to see him disappear up the stairs. Ava had paused, contemplatively, as she watched (imagined?) his blurred form whooshing up and up. _

_To follow? Or not?_

_She couldn't even be sure which floor he was running toward…_

_Another moment of deliberation before she stepped out of the stairwell and back into the hallway. She headed toward the elevators, and hoping Serendipity was on her side (god, that was a fantastic movie. She had to make Eric watch it with her later…she shook her head. _Focus _, she told herself sternly)_ _Taking a breath, she glanced at the buttons and decided on the top floor. _

_23_.

_It worked in the movie…_

_The elevator dinged, and she stepped cautiously out. The stairs were in front of her, and two stretching hallways to either side. Which way…which way…_

_The stairs, she decided. It was the last place she'd seen him….maybe? Maybe there'd be a clue? She laughed at that, but pushed open the heavy iron door anyway. It was that or flip a coin. _

_There were voices in the stairwell…she strained to catch the faint sounds. Someone…someones were talking…but where? _Damn echo_, she thought mutinously as she peered up and down the square of open space that the stairs wove around. A light wind caught her hair, its finger-soft touch brushing against her face and somehow (unconscious logic, she determined later) she knew up_.

_She climbed the stairs haltingly, that prickling, uneasy feeling churning her insides. The door to the roof was slightly ajar and she peeped through the small opening. _

_Her eyes widened as she saw Eric falling heavily to his knees._

"_I cannot lose you," Eric was saying, his head tilting down. From this angle she could see a red droplet make its way down his cheek. _

"_You do not have a choice."_

"_Then…I will stay with you," Eric promised, desperation filling his voice and he turned his blood-stained eyes up to meet Godric's calm ones. Her heart stopped at that. _

"_You cannot leave her."_

"_I cannot leave you." His words twisted at her, and she swallowed a half- stifled sob. _Eric, _she wanted to scream, to run out after him and drag him, drag them both, into the florescent shelter of the hotel._

"_You will," his hand reached out to rest upon Eric's head. "You will, as your maker I command it."_

_She breathed in relief, but it was short lived, her mind quickly filling in the empty space of the future. If Godric died…there had never been any doubt of his importance to Eric, and she feared what would become of Eric without him. Eric, Eric who refused to relinquish life had thrown his on the table for Godric. She couldn't let him die. _

_It was this thought that revolved in her head as she flew down the stairs and into the elevator – hoping she'd make it back to the room before Eric did. _

_It was a close thing, she had just settled herself into what she hoped was a natural looking sleeping position when Eric had slipped into the room. If he hadn't been so distracted, he surely would have noticed her erratic breathing and racing heart, but he hadn't and he had sat morosely in the armchair across from her. She frantically ran over what she could do. How could she convince Godric to live? And without Eric knowing what she was trying? _

_Eric was lifting her into his lap and she stirred not-quite-realistically. His hands were tangled in her hair and he was kissing her, lips desperately needy against hers. She fluttered her eyes open, and shut them quickly at seeing the lingering stains of red across his cheeks._

_What could she do?_

_He broke the kiss, his breathing rough and body shaking beneath hers. She wanted to comfort him, but could find no words. She knew too that he would recoil at her knowledge of his sadness, and so she let a slight smile flit across her face, eyes still closed in "sleep." He pressed a firm kiss upon her brow, before gently placing her back on the couch. She ignored the stab of pain she felt; it had been unreasonable to hope that he would wake her and confide in her the maelstrom of emotions she was sure he was experiencing. It wasn't Eric. _

_After what felt an eternity, she slowly opened an eye and appraised his slouched form. He looked like he was sleeping…she sat up – gingerly attempting to be silent – and was halfway to the door when he stirred. She froze, feeling a bit like an inept burglar, before he quieted and she slipped out the door. She ran down the hall, feet pounding on the carpeted lushness, and mind racing faster as she prayed she wasn't too late._

_She still didn't have a plan. Several ideas had arisen, but each had been rapidly dismissed. _

_Talk him out of it? Yeah, because that had worked so well for Eric. If Eric's emotional plea hadn't convinced Godric…no, she didn't even have any significance to Godric._

_Guilt him out of it? Again, the image of Eric on his knees…_

_What could she do? What could she do? _

_She was at the roof, walking toward him, the hard gravel biting into her feet. _

"_Eric…"_

_She shook her head, "Not quite." _

"_You should not be here." He was turning away from her, and she stepped to stand beside him, legs unsteady on the high ledge. _

"_Neither should you," she said unevenly, trying hard not to look down. She hated heights, and god knows her inborn klutz meant high ledges were not simply a death wish – but a death certainty. He took her proffered hand, she had wanted to hold onto him, wanted him to feel the physical world –real and solid within his grasp, maybe it'd remind him of the life he was leaving. Convince him of something. The world was warming, a faint blush painting the sky. She spoke absently, words passing through her lips before she could consider them. _

_She looked down. _

_Her every muscle tensed and she fought down the urge to scuttle back onto the relative safety of the roof. The world suddenly slowed, and something clicked. _

_If she fell…Godric would have to save her. It would only buy her one day, but…one day…She could feel the temperate stroke of the sun, soothing her, reassuring her. There was a chance he wouldn't catch her, she knew –either he wouldn't follow or wouldn't save her, but when she weighed that against the anguish she had seen drawn across Eric's face, against losing Eric…_

_She thought of Grace. Losing Grace should have broken her, shattered her into a hundred little pieces littering the ground but Eric had been there to keep her whole, holding her fragments together until she could fill the gaps herself._

_Godric was Eric's Grace. _

"_You jump, I jump Jack," the old movie line slipped out of her mouth. And before she could think any further, she let go._

____

"You did WHAT?" Eric roared.

She jumped. "I-"

"You jumped? You must be an idiot!" he was pulling her into him, pressing kisses all over her face. He needed to remind himself – assure himself – that she was really there, still there. "Stupid. _Stupid_." He muttered into her hair.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't ever do anything so stupid again," he said fiercely, gripping her tightly, as though holding onto her would keep her safe.

She nodded, and burrowed herself in his arms.

"Don't ever leave me." It hovered between them, neither a plea nor a command.

She nodded, echoing the words in her head because she knew she could not say them yet, could not ask that of him when she knew he would not be able to promise her eternity. A lifetime at best, but not eternity.

A lifetime, she ran her tongue over the word. If he would only grant her a lifetime with him …

__

The three of them were headed back to Shreveport. In the end, Godric had fallen to their unrelenting insistence though with the caveat that he would only grant them one week. Eric had wanted to push, to wrest eternity, but Ava had known that one week would suffice…

It had to.

The two were safely stowed in their coffins, and she had seated herself beside Eric's, playfully tapping out the melody of Cowboy Casanova.

Her iPhone trilled – she smiled down at it, Eric had lobed it at her (well, the couch, knowing she wouldn't catch it) this morning. When she had stared askance at it and then him, he had said simply that he didn't like not being able to reach her. He had placed himself "1" in her speed dial, and she had grinned stupidly at that, understanding that he wanted her to be able to reach him as well.

**Enough with that damned song.**

She snorted.

_**Bqxdumw'c hxd kn bunnyrwp?**_

She hummed patiently to herself as she waited for him to decipher it. The boy had a strange addiction to texting, she had soon discovered. And with his vampiric speed, she was no match, so she – and she proudly patted herself on the back for thinking this up – had decided to send encrypted texts. It was something she had used to do with her brother, a way to communicate without their parents' understanding. It had started as a game, something to amuse themselves with, but necessity has made it a well learned skill. They had about a dozen or so strange ciphers memorized, and it didn't take more than an hour to learn/untangle a new one (their parents had quickly caught on, so ciphers had to be switched continuously).

She had started Eric out with a simple one, the fairly straightforward shifting, where a number cipher was chosen and then each letter of the alphabet was shifted down that many letters. So, if 1 was the cipher, then the alphabet became "bdefghijk….za." Right now, she was using 9, but another couple of texts and she'd probably switch to a different number or move on to word ciphers.

His expression at the first coded text had been one for the books, and she had resolutely refused to explain what it meant – despite his best attempts at convincing her otherwise. She licked her lips in remembrance. He had quite a persuasive tongue. She giggled.

But, he had caught on quickly. It slowed him down enough that he texted at an almost normal speed and amused the both of them in the process. She knew he'd be beyond ecstatic when she introduced him to word ciphers, and anticipated many a randy sentence coming.

For now, he avoided ciphering his own messages (probably because it took too long for his nearly non-existent patience to muddle through), but she was sure another few days and he'd be doing it as well. She only hoped he didn't pick it up _too_ quickly, because it was rapidly becoming apparent that his learning curve was far ahead of her own…

**Only if you join me**.

She laughed aloud at that and grinned wickedly to herself as she started typing back.

A/N: Read and review? Please?

Oh and what her text said was: Shouldn't you be sleeping? [props to everyone who figured it out themselves!]


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: I am SO sorry about it taking me so long to get this chapter up. Writer's block and finals and trips and...anyway, I finally managed to get this scene written today! Hope all my lovely readers and reviewers had a fantastic holiday! My goal is to get another (ideally TWO…so we can end this decade with 20 chapters :D I like round numbers) chapter up by New Years. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the chappie :D

__

She laughed as she slid a Miller Lite down the bar, her eyes twinkling mischievously up at the sandy-haired man sitting before her. "I told you! Every bartender knows how to sling a beer."

"All right, all right," he chuckled, holding his hands up in deference. "You win. I'll try one of your girly concoctions. But, I think you should still let me buy you a drink."

"Drinking on duty is kind of a no-no," she whispered mock-conspiratorially.

"Ah, as a fellow bartender, I _know_ that's a lie."

"You bartend?" she asked curiously as she carefully dropped a frozen grape into the martini glass. She stirred the drink carefully.

"Here and there," he equivocated, green eyes sparkling. "Now are you gonna have a drink with me, or not?"

"Why not," she grinned, passing him his drink. "_But_," she added jokingly, "if I get fired, I'm going to steal your job."

He laughed, "I'll take that under advisement. Now, let me take a look at you."

She raised an eyebrow, "That's not weird at all."

"I'm trying to figure out what your drink is," he said, gazing seriously at her.

"Okay," she said doubtfully, "but if you say cosmo, I might just smack you."

"Hey! I take offense at that," he said, "I happen to be very good at this."

"Sure you are."

"I am!"

"And very slow, apparently."

"Well, my customers are normally more obliging," he said pointedly.

"I'm sure they are," she smirked.

"Well, that too," he grinned cockily. "I got it. Tequila, straight. And I bet you drink the good stuff, so why don't you pour us both a shot of Patron."

"Not bad," she smiled approvingly as she reached for a bottle. "Got it in one."

"I told you I was good," he smiled a little bawdily, "And not just at that."

She rolled her eyes. "And suddenly, this drink seems so much more necessary…," she said as she lifted her glass.

"To _hilarious_ new friends," he grinned as he clinked his glass against hers.

"Glad you think so," she winked before she threw hers back.

"God, I forgot how smooth this stuff is," he said as he eyed his empty glass.

"Don't go getting any ideas," she said warningly. "You still have to try my drink."

"Oh. Yeah," he said, enthusiasm dampened.

"Hey! At least try it before you go looking like I shot your dog," she pouted.

"Fair's fair, I suppose," he sighed.

"It's a not a shot!" she yelped indignantly. "Sips. Dainty sips."

"I'm not a girl!"

"Just a sexist –"

"Just a sexy man with dignity," he interrupted, correcting her in the process.

"Who clearly can't hold his alcohol, if the delusions are any indication."

"Funny," he said dryly. "And just to prove I'm secure enough in my manliness," he raised his glass challengingly, frowned and took a sip.

"Well?" she said eagerly.

"Not bad," he admitted reluctantly. He took another sip.

She smiled victoriously. "See!"

"Fine, I admit. Not all girly drinks suck," he acknowledged. "But, you have to admit a good shot is much more satisfying."

She grinned, "Well, can't deny that."

As if a bubble had burst, the bar suddenly seemed to be teeming with jostling patrons. She shot him an apologetic look as drink orders started pouring in, and he waved her off. "No worries, I understand. Lemme know if you need any help."

"Okay, I might just take you up on that," she laughed before she hurriedly started filling orders. He smiled after her and absently swallowed another mouthful. And grimaced. A drink inventor she was _not_.

He was a little surprised that she hadn't recognized him. Although, to be fair, she had been pretty drunk – and had spent most of the time staring at the well worn bar-top – so maybe it wasn't all that surprising. Of course, it was probably a good thing she didn't remember. He really hadn't meant to be the creeper that followed her across state lines, but when he had come to check on her the next day and she hadn't been there…and then he realized who she was…and then he had a meeting in Louisiana…it had all just kind of happened.

He didn't regret coming to, he peered at his napkin, _Fangtasia_. She clearly needed someone looking out for her, especially with all these characters she was mixed up with. Yes, Dave decided. Adam needed help establishing the new club-bar down here, and she needed watching.

He was staying.

___

_Three Jack, two Johnnies, four Jose, one vodka tonic, one scotch, two cranberry….three jack, two johnnies, four jose, one tonic, scotch, two cranberry…_she mumbled under her breath as she reached for glasses. "Three Jack, two johnnies, three-

"Four Jose," Godric corrected as he passed behind her, slipping her the bottle of Grey Goose she needed.

Her forehead crinkled as she mentally re-ran her list. _Three Jack, two Johnnies, 4_… "Oh crap, you're right," she said as she flipped another glass onto the tray. "Thanks, Godric!"

"You're welcome," he said with a calm smile, hands moving fluidly through the air as he poured out shots. She paused for a moment, eyes entranced by his graceful movements. He made it all look so easy.

"Yo! Three beers and a round of shots!" someone hollered from her left.

"I'll get it," Godric said, the shots already poured by the time she turned to shoot a grateful look at him. It was moments like this she was glad for his vampiric speed and strange interest in bartending. It was probably less the drink pouring than the human interactions that amused him, she mused as she added cranberry juice to her last two drinks. He seemed to find particular delight in talking with the people who teetered between buzzed and drunk, a hobby she wasn't sure she understood – but, to each their own, right?

"Here ya go," she smiled as she finished dolling out the drinks. She sighed, breathing a little easier now that the pace had calmed down a bit. Looking down the length of the bar, she grinned to herself as she saw Godric leaning across to chat with a mousy looking brunette.

"Oh Godric," she sighed to herself. He probably didn't even know that he had just made that girl's day – if not life. She remembered being that girl, the quiet one amongst a circle of bubbly, charismatic girls. Being shy and reserved in high school made for a better invisibility cloak than any Harry Potter creation. If it hadn't been for Grace, she smiled sadly, she would probably still be that forgotten girl who drifted unnoticeably by.

But, thanks to Godric, this girl was going to be the talk of her school. The one who managed to catch the attention of the hot vampire bartender? Yeah, she was gonna have a good Monday.

Speaking of hot vampires… she grinned as a familiar arm wrapped itself around her waist. "Hi Eric," she breathed as he turned her to face him. His lips pressed softly against hers in response.

__

_I judge by what she's wearing_

_Just how many heads I'm tearing_

_Off of assholes coming onto her_

_Each night seems like it's getting worse_

_And I wish she'd take the night off_

_So I don't have to fight off_

_Every asshole coming onto her_

"Next Contestant" - Nickelback

Eric scowled to himself, the lyrics of some obnoxious song she had been blasting circling in his head, as he watched some guy chat eagerly with her.

_Is that your hand on my girlfriend?_

_Is that your hand?_

The chorus arose in his mind as the guy had the nerve to place a hand on her arm. She smiled politely and shook him off. At least she wasn't taking shots with this one. He had seen her acting all buddy-buddy with some not-quite-blond-guy, a fact which still rankled at him. If it hadn't been for the urgent matters that required his immediate attention, he would have…well, suffice to say, it wouldn't have ended well for the idiot's face.

As it was, he was tempted to hunt him down, but his desire to reclaim Ava outweighed violence at the moment. He stalked toward her, eyebrows furrowing as he heard her whisper "Oh, Godric" in that, _that_ voice that was only ever supposed to be used with _his_ name, dammnit.

He hadn't meant to kiss her quite so enthusiastically, and certainly not in full view of his bar, but all his plans of a backroom-office rendezvous had flown out of his head when she had gone "_Eric_" and smiled so perfectly…Self-control had never been his strong suit, and really, why mess with what had worked perfec – well, had worked for a thousand years?

Reality had returned full force, unfortunately, when one of his roving hands knocked some barware to the ground. The twinkling chime of shattering glass broke sharply into his – and her – haze, and he was gratified to see an equally surprised, dazed look upon her face.

She had blushed embarrassedly – there was no greater sight, in his mind, than that perfect spread of pink across her snow-white skin – and he had smirked devilishly at her. He placed his lips beside her right ear and murmured, "You should take a break."

"A break?" she said innocently, "I don't know if that's such a good idea. See my boss is kind of an asshole, I dunno how he'd feel about me wandering off…"

"I assure you he'd be far more upset if you didn't," Eric growled.

"I dunno," she said teasingly, her arms encircling him.

"I _will_ throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here, if necessary," he warned.

"Really?" she grinned, "Because that I wanna see."

Which, was precisely what he did.

She squealed as they blurred through the club, into his office, and onto his couch. "Eric!"

"What?" he said ingenuously, looking every bit the angel he was feigning. "You told me to do it."

"Because, like an idiot, I thought you had a little more control than that," she muttered.

"I can take you back, if you'd like," he smirked. "But you can't tell me you didn't enjoy that," he whispered, lips tracing the line of her jaw.

She resolutely ignored him…for about a second before she turned and caught his lips with hers. "Maybe a little."

_A little_, he thought crossly. _We'll see about that_. A wicked smile flashed across his face as he drew back from her, and he watched as her eyes fluttered open – a disgruntled look settling on her features.

"Only a little," he murmured, breath ghosting over her ear and down her throat. "Really."

"Yeah," she said, voice uneven as he determinedly avoided touching her skin.

"That's too bad," he said, sitting up suddenly. He stretched back against the couch, arm thrown carelessly over the back cushion.

She blinked, before her eyes narrowed. "Eric! You jerk!"

"Hmm," he said carelessly, head back and eyes closed.

She slid onto his lap, a leg on each side, and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "I'm sorry," she said contritely. Her lips continued, feather-light, along his collar bone.

"Yeah?" he said gruffly, placing a hand on either side of her face and bringing it close to his. Their noses met before she leaned closer into him, her long, dark lashes brushing softly against his skin as she blinked slowly.

"Yeah," she said throatily. She stood up abruptly and smiled prettily. "I've got to go back to work."

She was out the door by the time he realized he had been played, and he chuckled darkly to himself. "You may have won this round, but I'm winning tonight."

Her head popped back into sight, slim fingers tapping on the doorway, startling Eric – only ever so slightly, mind. He would've been aware of her presence if she hadn't pulled her underhanded girl tricks and distracted him. "Oh you will, will you?" she said saucily.

"Yes," he said firmly. She must have sensed his intention to reach for her, because she flitted out of range and back toward the bar as she blew a raspberry at him.

Darting playfully toward her, he chuckled as she slipped out of grasp and onto the dance floor. Her newfound grace, however, failed her then as she skidded not-quite-naturally to a stop to avoid a collision.

__

Ava laughed brightly as scooted onto the dance floor. An unseen something – air, if she was being completely honest with herself – tripped her and she stumbled, nearly running head first into some scary looking vampire. Of course, in her attempt to avoid said scary vampire, she skidded and flew into a slender woman. Her hands raised in apology as the woman turned around.

"Grace?" she said in disbelief.

__

A/N: I know….I'm evil. You know, I actually toyed with the idea of ending the story here :D but I figured I couldn't do that to you guys. Oo and I got a Twitter! I'm totally addicted to following the tweets of musicians…So, come and find me, if any of you guys have one. It's "**roralee**" and I'll be posting little previews and tidbits about the story!

Read and review? Please? Your wonderful reviews and suggestions are what keep this story moving (and me writing!)


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Oh my god…I AM SO SORRY about how long it took to get this chapter up….I've been in a writer's block chokehold for like forever. I'm still not sure I liked the way this chapter went, and I know its pretty short, but I figured I should get it up ASAP. Tell me what you think :D

"Grace?"

Eric's eyes snapped toward the woman standing before Ava. _Grace_? He eyed her carefully. She was taller than he had imagined, 5'7" or 5'8", and as slim – if not slimmer – than Ava. The two could easily have passed for sisters, at first glance at least. She possessed the same fair skin and silky black hair – though hers was longer, fluttering well past her shoulder blades and almost to the small of her back – and similar oriental features. But, upon closer examination, her face was narrower, eyes smaller, and cheekbones higher. She was quite conventionally beautiful, he decided. But Ava…

His gaze flicked toward Ava, who seemed stuck in a state of shock. He would give her a few more seconds – it had probably only been about two since her proclamation – before he intervened. It struck him as highly unlikely that this was _actually_ her dead best friend; she had probably just mistook someone…

It was her eyes, Eric realized abruptly.

Ava had the most breathtakingly beautiful eyes, with their perfect almond shape and the dainty way they'd crinkle at the corners when sahe laughed. And the color…Grace's seemed a dull pebble in comparison to Ava's ever-shifting chocolately browns and glimmering onyx irises…

__

Ava froze and just stared. _Grace? "_Grace?" she croaked out, her mouth and throat suddenly dry, though not her face, she realized as Grace's thumb swept across her cheeks, brushing away her tears. A stifled sob escaped her lips and she clung to her when she wrapped her arms around her.

"I'm here Ava. It's really me," Grace said into her ear, answering all those teeming questions that she couldn't seem to say. "It's really me."

Eric chose that moment to interrupt, his hand coming to rest carefully on her shoulder. Ava jumped a little, before she smiled radiantly. "Eric! Look, it's Grace!"

He grunted noncommittally, eyes darkening in distrust as he took her in. "Let's go to my office. We'll sort this out there."

Ava nodded, her happiness bright and captivating. She linked arms with Grace and trotted after Eric, before a thought occurred to her. "What about Godric?" Twisting, she tried to catch sight of him over the mess of bodies that lay between her and the bar.

"He's already in the office. Pam'll take care of the bar until then," Eric replied. "Come along."

"Godric?" Grace repeated, a small smile settling around her lips. Her eyes widened and she whispered urgently to Ava, "Ava, I've got to tell you something. I-"

"Come on," Eric said impatiently.

"We're coming," Ava said dismissively. She turned to Grace. "I've got a bunch to tell you too! But let's not agitate them too much, especially since Godric probably can't wait to see you," she said suggestively.

"Ava," Grace tried again, but she had grasped her hand and started tugging insistently. She sighed and let herself be pulled along, there'd be time later.

**

Godric stood as the three of them walked in.

He was unsettled, Ava deduced. There was a deliberate relaxedness to his posture and a not quite natural smile stretched across his lips. It made sense of course, the strangeness of the situation was hard to ignore. His childe, whom he had met all of once, was returning to him from death. Ava's forehead furrowed at that thought.

Shouldn't Godric have known whether or not Grace was dead? The connection between Eric and him stretched far and wide, and however young his bond with Grace was…shouldn't he have known?

She didn't give voice to these questions however, the momentousness of the moment was not lost on her. Standing beside Eric, she watched as Grace stepped uncertainly toward Godric until they were separated by just a few feet.

Something was wrong.

Godric did not move, though his eyes sharpened as he took in Grace. An eyebrow raised and he glanced over her head toward Eric, who nodded tightly.

"What's going on?" she said, tugging slightly at Eric.

It was Godric who answered.

"She's not my childe."

"Yes. Yes, she is! It's Grace, I know she is," she said, desperation slipping into her voice. She couldn't lose Grace, not again. "She's right there and she's back and she's completely fine and..."

"No one is denying she's Grace," Eric murmured, drawing her into his arms. He cupped her face gently, hoping the contact would calm her franticness. Her breathing was evening out, and he waited another beat until he felt her body relax into his before he said softly, "But she's no longer a vampire."

"They're right," Grace spoke up quietly.

"But…_how_?"

"I don't know, exactly," she sighed. "But I think it has something to do with our gifts."

"I don't understand."

"When I got," she licked her lips, "When I got staked, I think…I think my gift protected _me_ at the expense of the vampire me. Does that make sense?"

"Not really," Ava admitted. "The two shouldn't be exclusive…right?"

"Yeah, but…it was. I can't use my gift, at all. And believe me, I tried."

"But, you're alive. Alive _alive_?"

"Yes. I think so."

"And you're not going anywhere?"

"Not unless you want me too," she said with a small smile.

"Never," Ava said fiercely, launching herself at Grace again. "_Never_."

"I believe there are things which still require explanation," Godric said, his quiet voice sliding between the two. "Many many things."

A/N: Read and review? Please?


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